Self Inflicted Wounds
by mchriste22
Summary: Spoilers thru 2:22-As I Lay Dying. "If I had chosen differently, I never would have met you." Elena chose to kiss Damon. Stefan chose human blood. Katherine chose redemption. Damon chose to confess. These choices change everything. D/E, S/K.
1. What Was Lost

_AN: Welp, here goes._

Chapter One – What Was Lost

Damon's blood wasn't moving. Three pairs of eyes stared anxiously at the crudely drawn map of Virginia, waiting for the slightest hint that the spell was working. Jeremy and Elena held their breath. A muscle in Damon's jaw ticked. Bonnie perched on the edge of the couch with her eyes closed and her arms stretched out over the ritual paraphernalia. Her soft chanting was the only sign of life in the vast Salvatore house.

"It's not working," Jeremy muttered, breaking the silence. Bonnie had started to sway – barely – but enough for the boy who was hyper aware of her every move to notice.

"Shut up," Damon hissed, his eyes flicking toward Jeremy for the briefest of instants. "Let her concentrate."

"It has to work," Elena whispered, her attention focused exclusively on the map. This was their last solid plan. Alaric's apartment had been searched, summoning spells attempted on everybody they could think of: all failed. With Caroline and Tyler's help, Damon had tried to pick up a scent but it had been cold, even for a vampire. Somehow, Klaus, Elijah, Katherine and Stefan had vanished from Mystic Falls without a trace.

Beads of sweat broke out on Bonnie's brow and trickled down the side of her face. Then the faintest touch of crimson appeared just under her nose, turning to a dark rivulet that coursed down and over her upper lip. Damon caught the tantalizing hint of copper first and said nothing, but Jeremy noticed a split second later.

"Bonnie! Bonnie, stop!" he shouted, breaking through her concentration. Her eyes flew open, pupils dilated against the stark whites. Then they rolled back in her head, her lashes fluttered. Jeremy caught her as she started to slide off the cushion, easing her gently to the floor.

"Dammit," Damon cursed and shot up from the darkly upholstered couch to pace in front of the fireplace. His agitated gaze went automatically to Elena's crestfallen face. With renewed urgency he took in the unconscious witch and her valiant white knight. "Wake her up. She needs to try again."

"No freaking way," Jeremy proclaimed, utterly defiant. Bonnie was out cold and he cradled her head against his shoulder. "After everything that's happened, I'm not letting her kill herself over a stupid location spell."

"I need to find Stefan," Damon argued, uttering the catch phrase they had all repeated numerous times over the past few days. It had become their calling card, their mantra, despite the fact that it was losing steam as they ran out of options. The location spell, the same one Bonnie had used to find Elena when Rose and Trevor had taken her, was their last obvious resort.

"We don't even know if it works on vampires," Jeremy shot back, unperturbed to be fighting with a being that could kill him – and had - without breaking a sweat. Damon fumed in impotent silence and went to the fireplace, turning his back on the room and everybody in it. Jeremy smoothed Bonnie's disheveled hair off her face and looked up at Elena. "I'm sorry."

The shrug and half smile she gave him was a direct contrast to the tears pooling in her dark eyes, but she said nothing as Jeremy looped his arms more securely around Bonnie and lifted her easily from the floor. The witch stirred slightly, nuzzling her face against his chest, but didn't wake. They disappeared into one of the many dens and sitting rooms scattered throughout the house. A familiar heavy silence fell on the room.

Elena's gaze fell to the remnants of the failed ritual. Damon's blood had soaked into the parchment, a spreading stain that covered the area representing Mystic Falls and the miles surrounding it. Barely audible, she murmured. "Three strikes and you're out."

"We'll find him," Damon promised harshly, his back still turned. He'd made the oath so many times, Elena had run out of things to say in response.

But even a vampire couldn't hear her head nod, so she cleared her throat and said. "I know."

"Klaus won't kill him," Damon asserted, turning around and treading the well worn path to the bar. He splashed bourbon into a crystal tumbler and after a sharp look at Elena, poured another. "He already had a chance and he didn't take it."

"I know," Elena repeated and reached for the offered drink with just the slightest hesitation. Their fingers brushed accidentally, lingered and her gaze skittered over his face. In a rare moment they made eye contact before both looked away. The setting sun reflected off the faceted glass as Elena took a tentative drink, blinding her momentarily. The fiery liquid burned down her throat, but she didn't flinch.

Damon eyed the empty space beside her on the couch, then changed his mind and walked around the low table to sit across from her. Despite the distance, her heartbeat echoed in his head. By now, he should have been used to it, but since Stefan had acted the sacrificial lamb nothing was the same.

"Damon, we need-."

"Klaus must have found himself another witch," the vampire muttered darkly, ignoring the expectant tension rising in the room. Elena could feel it, like a string from her heart to his, tightening with each moment they spent alone. "Someone who can keep Stefan off Bonnie's radar. She's jacked up on too much Power to have just _failed_."

"That makes sense," Elena nodded, tilting her glass to watch the bourbon catch the sunlight through the crystal, but also to avoid the hypnotic intensity of Damon's eyes. When he was upset, he forgot to control it and if she slipped and fell in they couldn't keep avoiding each other. "Klaus would know we'd come after Stefan. There's no way he wouldn't have planned for that."

"Elena, I'm sorry," Damon said for the hundredth time.

Her shoulders sagged. "You don't have to keep saying that. I know. Besides, this was Stefan's choice."

"Yeah, the choice to save me," he replied, contempt coloring every word. "He should have just let me die."

Elena sucked in a sharp breath and lifted her head. Damon's gaze was black as their eyes caught. He'd been thinking that every second since Katherine brought him the cure that cost Stefan his freedom, but this was the first time he'd said it out loud. Elena shook her head. "Stefan couldn't let that happen."

After another drink, Damon borrowed her non-committal words, making them drip with self-loathing. "I know."

"Maybe…maybe I should go to Alaric's apartment," Elena suggested in an attempt to dance away from the elephant in the room. "I know you checked it out, but I might find something or see something you didn't. Some message Stefan left for me."

"No," Damon said a little too quickly. Elena frowned at him, met his gaze, and Damon looked away. "There's nothing there, there's no point. Klaus is too smart to leave breadcrumbs."

Once again, silence fell. They were caught at a crossroads, paralyzed and uncertain now that the last option in finding Stefan had been exhausted. His disappearance had provided them with a distraction and they had gladly used it to avoid discussing what had happened the night Damon nearly died. The specter of their brief kiss hung between them, the proverbial key to Pandora's Box and although Elena had no idea what to say, she could no longer fight the impulse to bring it up. Damon, on the other hand, seemed to be able to sense her primal impulse and threw up walls to keep her out.

"Damon, we have to talk about it," Elena finally managed the entire sentence without being interrupted. The surprise victory left her giddy and she gulped down another swallow of bourbon. She was beginning to drink the harsh liquid like a pro.

"No, we don't," Damon replied definitively and left no room for argument. Of course, that's exactly what Elena did.

"Yes, we do," she insisted. "You can pretend all you want that you don't think about what happened, but I know you do. Because I do. And the longer we ignore it, the harder it will be to even be around each other and we need to be to find Stefan. We need to focus on him."

"I know what _I_ need to focus on," Damon replied, his jaw clenched so tight it actually hurt. He was surprised his teeth didn't shatter. "I've _been _focusing on it. I'm not confused about what happened, Elena. I was dying and while I appreciate the kiss, I meant what I said. I know it's Stefan and that it will always be Stefan."

Damon managed with ease what Elena hadn't been able to do – he mentioned the kiss aloud for the whole universe to hear. Despite the importance of that small but momentous act, the tension hadn't relented. Elena suspected she knew why.

"But what if – ."

"I think I know a way we can find them," Jeremy bounded into the living room, oblivious to what he'd interrupted. Bonnie wasn't with him, but he was holding his laptop exultantly in one hand and didn't wait for an invitation to take a seat on the couch next to Elena. Ignoring her look of irritation, he flipped the cover up and hit the power button.

Damon raised a brow and demanded. "Well?"

Jeremy quirked a half smile, enjoying the fact that the arrogant vampire was at his mercy. Nudging Elena with his elbow, he offered a vague phrase. "Google to the rescue."

* * *

><p>Stefan lingered at the mouth of an alley, eyes closed, idly stroking his fingertips over the rough brick of an old building. <em>Old, <em>he smirked, a blink-and-you'll-miss-it twitch of his lips. Only in America would a building that had been built a mere century ago be considered old. He caressed the bricks tenderly, his already keen vampire senses heightened by the human blood glutting his system. Animal blood did more than help him maintain his humanity, it dampened sensation. Only now did he remember how vivid the world truly was to those of his kind. Stefan pressed his hand flat against the wall, still warm from baking all day in the merciless sun. Everything had a life force, even that which humans considered dead, and at that moment he could feel the stone and mortar pulse. How did Damon control this?

Why would he want to?

Thinking of his brother had an odd effect on Stefan. He felt no pain or fear, but in a detached way he found the space where those emotions should have been. The smooth surface of his psyche rippled around the switch he'd flicked off himself the moment he'd clamped his bared fangs down on the soft flesh of the nubile gift Klaus had offered him.

The _human. _

It happened again, that awareness that _something _should be there, in this case regret. The Stefan of mere days before would have been riddled with guilt over the barbaric and completely unnecessary violation of a young and presumably innocent girl. He hadn't needed to feed and Klaus had only given him a slight nudge, somehow knowing the arm twisting and threats were no longer necessary. But the high from his blood bag feast had been wearing off, leaving behind only the longing to sink his teeth into something alive and fresh. Giving in hadn't just felt good, it felt _right. _Drinking blood – human blood – was a vampire's true nature.

_Human. _Elena.

This time, something pierced through and took Stefan by surprise. Not love, exactly, but longing, intense and deep coursed through him. Not even a vampire could turn off desire. The humanity in him, banished and exiled, screamed for Elena loud enough to awaken the base lust of an animal realizing that the homeless man he'd just drained and tossed aside behind the nearby dumpster had only partially satisfied him.

"Stefan."

Jerked out of the blood haze, Stefan's eyes flew open. During the 1960s, at the height of the counter culture sweeping aside the staid '50s, he'd been deep in one of his most human periods. Bunnies and nothing but, as Caroline might have said. He'd heard about the effects of pot and acid, LSD and PCP, but had never tried them for fear they'd damage his control and he'd fall off the wagon. Now, he cocked his head and stared at the brick walls of the alley, watched them drip with thick, rich, delicious blood that he knew couldn't be there and wondered if this is what a _trip _felt like. He heard a giggle, realized it had burbled up from his bloodstained lips and laughed harder.

Klaus grinned, showing fang, and clapped his protégé on the shoulder. "I see you've put your qualms aside."

Stefan nodded, the unfamiliar echo of his own laughter still hanging in the warm night air. "I've missed this."

"Then I'm pleased our little arrangement is proving mutually beneficial," Klaus replied with a gentlemanly nod, the gesture of a forgotten era.

"Speaking of which," Stefan replied, pushing away from the brick wall and admirably reigning in the stupefying effects of the blood. While his system initially went into a tailspin immediately after falling off the wagon, this time, surprisingly, he was able to find equal footing. "What exactly is our arrangement?"

Klaus clucked his tongue against his elongated teeth. "We have been over this, Stefan."

"I don't believe you," Stefan shrugged. Inadvertently, he channeled Damon and cocked an eyebrow. "Sue me."

"Calling an Original a liar," Klaus mused, a distinct note of admiration in his tone. "I had no idea you were so…bold."

Stefan said nothing and waited, his gaze wandering to the nearly full moon. The longer he stared at it, the bigger and brighter it appeared. Klaus watched as Stefan slipped once again into the thrall of the blood, hypnotized by the cosmic hunk of rock reflecting the sun's rays back to earth. The ancient creature eventually laughed and slung an arm over the shoulders of the comparatively younger man.

"All in good time, my friend, all in good time," Klaus promised. Stefan tripped over his feet as they exited the alley. "And believe me, that is the one thing we have plenty of."

"What?" Stefan asked, blinking through dissipating blood soaked cobwebs.

"We're immortal on a level that surpasses even those of our kind," Klaus continued, undeterred by Stefan's inability to pay attention. "There is no other creature on this planet like me and you…well, you have your ring. A delightful trinket that vastly expands your world. Why not enjoy that a bit before getting down to business, hmm?"

Klaus made no move to hide their otherworldly speed as he guided Stefan out of the alley and down the block. Even at the late hour, heavy traffic zoomed past. Or perhaps in his state of detached consciousness Stefan only _thought _it was heavy. For all he knew it was just one car going by over and over, like a demented merry-go-round.

That train of thought came to an abrupt halt outside a large black, metal door. Stefan glanced around, disoriented and saw that they were in another alley, this one suspiciously clean and devoid of rats. Klaus dropped his arm from Stefan's shoulders and opened the heavy looking door as if it weighed mere ounces. No light emanated from within, but Stefan could hear music dominated by heavy bass and mournful violins. Layered beneath that were murmured voices that no human could have heard. Actual words were indiscernible, but something in their tone beckoned. The Original stood in the doorway, half cloaked in darkness.

"Are you going to join me or stand out here and miss all the fun?"

Stefan took a step forward, his focusing sharpening to a point. "What's down there?"

"The world in which you belong," Klaus replied, dropping the smirk and speaking with unusual earnestness. "The world you have been denying yourself."

"I don't…" Stefan hesitated, but he didn't know why.

"Stefan. Why won't you come see me?"

The familiar plaintive cry cut through every other sound, reaching deep inside him to the primal core where human and vampire shared an uneasy co-existence. Stefan took an involuntary step forward. "Elena?"

Another figure joined Klaus in the doorway, lithe and ethereal. Distinct features materialized slowly and at first Stefan thought it really was Elena. The odd mixture of insatiable lust tempered by the remnants of love surged within him.

Then the moon climbed higher, illuminating the doorway and the owner of the voice. Brunette and pale with perfect feminine features, the girl was Elena's type, but nowhere near as beautiful. His humanity wailed in anguish.

Klaus sensed the change in him and caressed the girl on the bare arm. She shivered, clad only in a skimpy pale pink slip dress and Stefan's desire wound tighter. "I can make you believe it is her, your beloved doppelganger."

With a snap of his fingers the girl stepped forward and smiled shyly, ducking her head and tucking her hair behind her ear. During those seconds, she transformed and when she lifted her head, it _was _Elena, her dark eyes sparkling with love. This time, despite crippling need, the vampire within rejected the ruse.

"No!" Stefan ordered, mounting the remaining steps and using his height to full advantage. "No compulsion. I made a deal and I'll honor it, but not if you compel me."

Klaus held up his hands with an acquiescing smile and the girl shifted back to her given form. Closing his eyes, he wrestled with his dual nature until the human part of him was subdued. With a delicate mental caress, he coaxed the switch back into place. Instantly, Stefan's senses sharpened, the need for blood and sex coalescing into one burning desire. Faster than any human eye could ever process, he whirled and pressed the girl against the doorframe.

"What's your name?" he demanded, fangs bared and ready. The girl's pulse raced beneath her skin, blood pumping so loudly Stefan thought the entire city would surely hear it.

"M-Monica," she stammered. Moonlight lit upon her face and Stefan caught his reflection in her wide eyes. He looked every bit the monster he was.

He smiled.

"Aren't you afraid, Monica?"

Jerkily, the obviously terrified girl shook her head. Stefan caught her excitement beneath the fear. If Monica was compelled, Klaus had done an amazing job. Dipping his head, Stefan pierced the delicate skin of her throat just enough to draw blood. Monica's breath hitched, her pulse thrummed faster. Stefan licked the tiny wound slowly, his tongue an erotic weapon setting her skin on fire. By the time he reached her mouth, she was arching against him, straining to be closer to the being that would most likely kill her by dawn.

Stefan's kiss drew blood, he didn't know whose – didn't care. His lips brushed her ear as he whispered thickly. "You should be."


	2. Won't Get Fooled Again

_AN: All thanks for this chapter should go to my best friend and beta who called me over and over playing clips of Delena convos from S1 over the phone until I got off my ass and posted this. ;p She rocks. _

_Thanks for the subscribing and reviewing. I really appreciate it. I don't post a lot - or at all, really - on messageboards or forums, so if you like the story and think you know someone else who might, encourage them to read. You'll have my undying love and affection. :D_

Chapter Two - Won't Get Fooled Again

The sun was high and bright in the sky when Damon arrived at the high school and smoothly rolled the Camaro to a stop in the first open parking spot he found. Through dark sunglasses, he watched students pour through every door, eager to put as much distance between them and the week of involuntary learning they'd just endured. Weaving his way through the throng was like swimming upstream and Damon made a face, mildly annoyed.

A flash of long ebony hair in the periphery of his vision pulled Damon up short at the top of the concrete staircase at the school's front entrance. Elena, her back to him and oblivious to his presence, trekked across the student parking lot, bound for the black SUV she shared with Jeremy. Reaching the vehicle, she turned to dig the keys out of her bag, giving Damon a glimpse of more than just her profile. Instantly, he groaned at her determined expression; or as he liked to call it the "I have a stupid plan that's going to piss Damon off" face. _Great._

Damon hovered at the top of the stairs, now torn between two purposes. On the one hand, Ric and Jeremy were waiting for him inside. Jeremy's idea had proved not entirely without merit and while it all felt a little too junior detective for Damon to really take seriously, it was the only lead they had.

But on the other hand…Elena. Past experience had taught him nothing good ever came of _that _look.

The girl permanently at the forefront of his thoughts had unlocked the SUV by now and had tossed her backpack into the backseat along with the leather jacket the afternoon sun had rendered completely useless. The long-sleeved, white, v-neck shirt had ridden up in the back, exposing just a hint of smooth skin above the waistband of her dark wash jeans. Quickly - and regrettably - Elena remedied that by tugging the hem back into place and climbed into the driver's seat. Automatically she secured her seatbelt and then turned her eyes toward the high school, tapping her slender fingers on the steering wheel with obvious impatience.

As a human Caroline Forbes had attracted more attention than the average high schooler. Now as a vampire the reigning Miss Mystic Falls was even easier to pick out in a crowd. Damon didn't need his heightened senses, all he needed to do was follow the sightlines of all the drooling males she left in her wake.

"Caroline," he began in a conversational tone, as if she were standing at the foot of the short flight of stairs rather than halfway across the parking lot. The blonde paused, then looked over her shoulder, scanning the crowd until she found him. Rather than speak, she raised her eyebrows. Damon cocked his head. "Don't screw this up."

Caroline huffed in annoyance, her hands gripping the strap of the messenger bag slung over her shoulder. "I'm not an idiot, Damon."

"Try and keep it that way," he suggested. Caroline pursed her lips and glared at him venomously. If they'd shared a psychic connection, Damon had no doubt the thoughts she would be sending his way would be anything but kind. The smirk never left his face as he watched the vampire he'd unwittingly created join Elena in the SUV. Within seconds, they fell in line with the other departing vehicles and disappeared.

A familiar, restless unease settled over Damon as he made his way into the nearly empty high school. Lately, it had started whenever Elena left his sight and wouldn't abate until they were together again. He walked pensively through the halls, staring at the alternating pools of light and shadow that stretched across the floor, the thick soles of his boots making little noise. He was annoyed that he couldn't pinpoint when the sensation had started. Definitely not when he had first returned to Mystic Falls. Elena had been nothing but a Katherine clone then. Fascinating, but human and of little interest beyond her resemblance to the woman he'd spent his entire undead existence trying to find. Even after Katherine's duplicity had been revealed and Damon starting seeing Elena as something other than a poor imitation and worthy of his consideration, he'd been able to get through the day without monitoring her every breath. Now he was lucky to get through five minutes.

Damon turned a corner and headed toward the social studies classroom at the end of the hall. With a dark scowl, he concluded that his sudden preoccupation with Elena's every waking move had probably started when her solution to whatever threat they encountered had been suicide. During the course of his life, Damon had met plenty of people with a death wish, but no one had ever rivaled Elena Gilbert in sheer stubborn will to make it reality.

Alaric and Jeremy were busy at the front of the room when Damon finally graced them with his presence. They barely acknowledged him, their attention focused instead on the large map of the south eastern United States drawn on the whiteboard. A large, self-important black star represented Mystic Falls, while the surrounding towns had a smaller, simpler black spec to signify their existence. Other symbols littered the board in varying colors.

"Look at all the pretty colors," Damon crossed his arms and took in what had to have been the sum total of an entire afternoon's work. "Well, Ric, considering how much you suck at the vampire hunter thing, high school teacher was definitely the way to go. You color inside the lines so well."

Aside from a pointed glare, Alaric ignored Damon and consulted a list scribbled messily on yellow legal paper. He added a blue X near Savannah and two red X's in the heart of Kentucky. Damon cocked his head and eyed the vast array of markings critically..

"I thought this was supposed to help us find Stefan."

"Yeah, I thought so, too," Jeremy admitted sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. At first, his light bulb moment had seemed prophetic. A Google search had yielded a something of a pattern of missing people leading west, away from Mystic Falls. Then they'd widened the search and the names had poured in. "There's been a lot more people going missing or dying in the past few days than I expected."

"Clearly," Damon replied drily. "What do the symbols mean?"

"The X's? Death," Alaric muttered without looking up from his notes. "The question marks should be self-explanatory. Although, I am a high school teacher, so I'd be happy to, you know, teach you."

Damon rolled his eyes. "Let me guess, blue means boy and red means girl?"

"Very good, class," Alaric muttered with a sarcasm that Damon refused to acknowledge.

"I thought we'd find a pattern or something, but…" Jeremy sighed and took in the random assortment of X's and question marks. "If it's there, I can't see it.

Damon studied the white board until the symbols blurred and he was lost in the past when Stefan had been the unpredictable, insatiable monster that put Damon's notoriety to shame. If Alaric and Jeremy knew – if Elena knew – what they'd most likely find at the end of their little quest, he doubted they'd be trying so hard now. Within the myriad of colored markings, Damon found what might be a pattern and decided it was time to find out just how predictable his little brother really was. He gestured to the board.

"Get rid of the guys," he ordered.

Alaric paused with the blue marker in hand. "What?"

"Just humor me," Damon grabbed an eraser and began removing the blue X's and question marks. When the board was a sea of uninterrupted red, he leaned against Alaric's desk and gestured at the yellow pages. "Now, go back through your little notes and take out anybody over fifty unless they're with a group. Circle all the brunettes."

What had taken all afternoon to build took only minutes to destroy. Following Damon's orders, Alaric and Jeremy reconfigured the board, erasing and circling until the random chaos of symbols resembled three distinct spokes, an unfinished wheel. The two men stepped back and all three observed their work in silence.

"Well, that clears things up considerably," Alaric observed. "You really think they're only targeting women?"

"Nope. I doubt Klaus is that choosy," Damon paused, considering. In life he'd known most of Virginia like the back of his hand. In death, every detail of the south was permanently imprinted on his brain. Stefan had stayed closer to Mystic Falls, but Damon knew what his brother favored, where his basest instinct would drag him. "But Stefan's just getting back into the game. He's going to go for what he likes, what he's been denying himself all these years."

"Denying himself?" Alaric glanced at Damon, brows raised. Jeremy frowned and circled back around the desk to his laptop. "Why do I get the feeling you're not just talking about human blood?"

"Holy shit," Jeremy breathed before Damon could decide on a response. Referring to the notes, he clicked through one screen after another, his eyes growing wider and wider until he looked up sharply. "Check this out. These girls all look like Elena."

"What?" Alaric joined Jeremy behind the desk, but Damon didn't move. He didn't need to see the photos of the dead and the missing brunettes, the looks on both Jeremy and Alaric's faces confirmed his suspicions. Silently, he cursed his brother. Alaric looked up. "You knew we'd find this, didn't you?"

"I had a pretty good idea," Damon admitted with irritating nonchalance, while inside, his stomach churned. He'd been hoping this time would be different, but as usual Stefan had been annoyingly true to form.

"So, do we tell Elena now?" Alaric asked refusing to whither beneath the hard gaze Damon turned on him. "She's gonna find out anyway and I think she definitely deserves to know this."

"Yeah, and she'll be pissed we didn't tell her," Jeremy added.

"I'll tell her," Damon promised, the dread growing exponentially at the prospect. Alaric's apartment had been a mess. Blood and empty blood bags all over the floor. _He gave himself over to Klaus. _Katherine's explanation had instantly made sickening, perfect sense. Stefan had fallen off the wagon, this time at the demand of a sadistic Original in order to save his brother's life. Still, he'd delayed in telling Elena on the slim chance that he was wrong. Alaric and Jeremy's research shot that notion to hell. Damon sighed. This was going to suck.

"Three trails," Jeremy murmured. "Which one do we take?"

Damon's attention was focused on the trail heading south through North Carolina to the coast, the one with the highest concentration of symbols. Every red X was circled.

"All of them," he said, his jaw set tight. "We take all of them."

* * *

><p>Elena and Caroline's after school field trip was a short one, just across town to Alaric's apartment building. The teacher hadn't stayed in the converted historical site since Klaus had relinquished control of his body. Caroline was no more enthusiastic to return and made the point undeniably clear the entire way there, but she dutifully tagged along. Elena suspected that despite the absence of any obvious bad guys, Damon had given Caroline explicit instructions to keep <em>the human <em>in her sights. To her surprise, Elena wasn't annoyed, but oddly grateful. Since Jenna's death, she really hadn't relished the idea of being alone and whether Damon knew that or not, his concern was…touching in a totally platonic, friend looking out for a friend sort of way.

The fact that the phantom sensation of Damon's lips against hers still made Elena's breath catch and her stomach flip had absolutely nothing to do with it.

Mystic Falls was notoriously – some might say stupidly – trusting in the bright light of day and the front door to the building was unlocked. No doorman needed compelling, so Elena and Caroline entered without incident. The sun streamed through the stained glass inlaid on the front door, painting the floor a vivid shade of red that looked a little too much like blood. Hastily, Elena darted past Caroline and hurried up the stairs.

Dust motes danced in the late afternoon sunlight pouring through the window at the end of the hall on the eerily silent second floor. The door to Alaric's apartment was shut, locked, just like Elena expected. A sudden bout of nerves made her stomach flip, but she swallowed and looked back expectantly at her bodyguard. Another bonus to Caroline being attached like glue to her side: her own special skeleton key.

"Elena, are you sure this is, like, really necessary?" Caroline trailed behind her, halfway down the hallway. "I mean, I was here. With Damon and Alaric. We didn't find anything."

"So you say," Elena murmured, frowning at the door knob.

Caroline was at her side in an instant, her features set in a near perfect imitation of confusion while very real worry lines marred her porcelain skin. "You don't believe us?"

Only the fact that Elena was used to vampires whizzing by her at top speed kept her from flinching. "I believe there was nothing Damon _wanted_ to tell me. I don't believe you guys didn't find anything."

Caroline looked around the empty hallway, everywhere but directly at Elena. "H-how do you know?"

Elena offered her friend a knowing smile. "Because you're a really bad liar, Caroline."

Caroline's shoulders slumped and she closed her eyes. Without further protest, she twisted the ornate bronze knob, causing the lock to snap with a loud pop. The door swung open silently on well-oiled hinges. Before Elena could set foot inside, a sickly sweet odor assaulted her nostrils.

"What is that?"

"It's blood," Caroline said softly, slipping silently through the doorway into the dark apartment. A second later, dim light cut through the gloom. Elena tugged her sleeve down over her hand like a makeshift mask and covered her mouth, then followed. At first, despite the stench, nothing seemed amiss. The curtains were drawn tight against the sun but nothing else gave away the true nature of the apartment's recent occupants. Then Elena noticed the dining room chair, pulled out from the table and standing alone. A nearly black stain had coated the upholstered seat and had run down the leg where it had pooled and dried on the hardwood floor. Empty liquor bottles littered the counter by the sink in the open kitchen. With wide eyes, she took in the whole of the loft and tripped over the true source of the smell.

"Oh, god," she recoiled and nearly gagged. Empty and nearly empty blood bags littered the floor in a trail stretching from the kitchen counter halfway to the door. Thick smears of blood had congealed on the floor. A single, perfect handprint humanized the carnage.

"Um, obviously Alaric hasn't had time to clean," Caroline stood in the center of the room, twisting her hands together and looking guilty and embarrassed as if she somehow bore some responsibility for the mess.

"What happened here?" Elena asked in horrified awe. Placing her boots carefully, she stepped around the scattered pools of blood and crouched beside the handprint.

"Klaus," Caroline spit out the name like a curse. She joined Elena and surveyed the mess before offering a helpless shrug. "Damon put the pieces together right away. He took one look at the empty blood bags and started swearing in, like, Italian or something. I couldn't follow it all, but I know I heard Katherine, Klaus and Stefan's names in there."

"Stefan," Elena murmured, placing her hand next to the bloody print on the floor. Anxiety unfurled in her gut and crawled up to wrap like a vice around her lungs. The assurances Stefan had given her, which she'd clung to since he disappeared-that Klaus wouldn't kill him-echoed dully in her head. What hadn't occurred to her were the plethora of fates worse than death for an all but immortal vampire.

"_He gave himself over to Klaus." _

Elena had been trying to figure out Katherine's cryptic words ever since she'd delivered them along with the cure for Damon. Now, seeing the blood bags on the floor, the truth seemed unavoidable. Tears burned her eyes and for a moment, Elena thought she'd lose it right there on the floor. Swallowing the helpless feeling threatening to choke her, she stood and moved quickly to the far opposite side of the room. "Klaus made Stefan drink all that blood."

"That's what Damon and Alaric guessed, too," Caroline nodded. "That's a bad thing, isn't it? I mean, Stefan never told me _exactly _why he sticks to bunnies, but I always figured there had to be an actual reason."

"It's a drug to him," Elena pulled back the curtain and peaked out the window. The heart of the town was bustling with the after school crowd and people heading home from work, blissfully unaware of the true, terrifying nature of the world in which they lived. A couple walked across the grassy square, grinning and holding hands. Elena's heart twisted painfully and for a moment she was out there, with Stefan. Instead of the anonymous girl, it was Elena's hair that the gentle afternoon breeze blew in front of her face and Stefan who chuckled as he brushed it aside and leaned in to kiss her.

"Elena?" Caroline pulled her from the sweet fantasy and back to the horror that was Alaric's apartment. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she replied quickly, pressing her lips together in something she hoped was reassuring. Elena was definitely not fine. Far from it. Her nerves were frayed from what felt like an unending stream of death and violence. Just when she thought she might have a second to catch her breath and grieve for Jenna and John and everybody who'd been lost in the past few months, a new catastrophe reared its head. Pushing the emotion down to the pit of her stomach, she cleared her throat. "Um, when Stefan drinks human blood he's… not the same person. He's…uncontrollable. A m-monster."

"A vampire," Caroline supplied with a rueful shrug. "He told me."

"No, it's different. You…Damon…you can handle it without turning into something out of a horror movie," Elena frowned, suspicion dawning slowly. "Why didn't anybody tell me about this?"

"Um, because…well, Damon told us not to," Caroline admitted, looking guilty once more. Elena bristled and crossed her arms.

"_Us?_ Who else knows?"

"Um, well, me and Alaric," the blond admitted, gazing at the ornately carved crown molding. "We were here. And then, um, well, Tyler showed up because we told him to meet us back here after he'd finished scouting outside of town. I think Jeremy-."

"He knows, too?" Elena was incredulous now. Tendrils of betrayal wrapped around her heart. The gratitude she'd felt toward Damon for thinking of her safety soured as she realized nothing had changed since the night he'd nearly died in her arms. He'd confessed he loved her, that he wouldn't change a thing about the course that led him to her, but apparently he still thought she was just a stupid, untrustworthy human. Trying very hard not to shoot the messenger, she struggled to keep her voice neutral. "And I suppose Jeremy told Bonnie."

Caroline protested ignorance. "I don't know about that-."

"You know what, nevermind," Elena ran her hands through her hair in exasperation. The four walls of the loft space felt like they were closing in on her and Klaus seemed to be lurking in every growing shadow. Katherine had been a prisoner here, then Stefan. With sudden clarity she understood why Alaric had only returned for clothes and the barest essentials, leaving the evidence behind. No amount of scrubbing or bleach could remove the taint of evil from the apartment. "This room should be burned."

Avoiding the carnage on the floor, she walked around the sofa, armchair and end table and out the door, Caroline following quickly at her heels. The air in the hallway was lighter and Elena paused to draw a deep, cleansing breath that fanned the spark of righteous anger and betrayal burning in her chest. "I shouldn't be surprised. It's Damon's style. Keep the truth from Elena because she might do something crazy, like coming up with a plan that actually works and doesn't involve confronting the enemy blind with guns blazing."

"I think he just wanted to make sure-," Caroline tried, but Elena didn't want to hear it.

"Don't make excuses for him, Caroline," she cut her friend off and retraced their path back down the hallway to the single flight of stairs. The old, polished wooden staircase creaked with every step and she turned at the bottom to wait for her friend. Elena blinked to find Caroline right behind her, having followed her with the otherworldly silence of a vampire. In her surprise, she blurted. "Why did you go along with him? Are you really that afraid of Damon?"

"No," Caroline answered immediately. They exited the apartment building together and returned to Elena's black SUV. "But he made a lot of sense at the time."

"I'll bet he did," Elena muttered, her thoughts as dark as the paint on her car as she pulled away from the curb and headed to the Salvatore house.

"You're going to confront him now, aren't you?" Caroline asked with a sigh.

"Damn right I am," Elena confirmed, all the while cursing her own naivety where the elder Salvatore was concerned. In a way, she was grateful that Damon had reminded her of his true nature. The anger and betrayal gave her focus and helped her keep the helpless despair at bay. Not to mention the confusing and dangerous attraction their brief kiss had stirred within her. Biting her lip to banish the ghost of sensation there, she muttered. "I thought we were done with secrets. Apparently, Damon needs a reminder."


	3. The Ugly Truth

_AN: In which Katherine is...mentioned. Thanks so much for the replies and enjoy chapter three!_

Chapter Three - The Ugly Truth

Darkness had a way of making Mystic Falls feel sinister. Everything became magnified. Trees took on a menacing shape, even during the summer when lush green leaves sprouted from skeletal branches that reached for the heavens. Anything could, and often did, hide within those lofty heights. Unseen eyes seemed to peer out from the thick shadows, watching and waiting for the moment to strike. Innocent prey became more pure and vulnerable while evil predators grew stronger and bolder.

For a long time, Damon had considered himself a predator, the top of the food chain. Human beings were little more than amusing playthings. Immortality was his failsafe and as long as he wasn't colossally stupid, he was invincible. The events of recent months had altered that perception considerably. Now, when things went bump in the night he listened.

The sun had just set, and through the tall windows of the Salvatore house, Damon watched the last dying rays of light lose their battle with the dark. Elena wasn't back yet, a fact that bothered Damon for two distinctly different reasons. One, his paranoia about her safety was worse at night and two, when she finally arrived, he no choice but to tell her the truths he'd been hiding.

"Bonnie's in," Jeremy announced to the quiet library as he pressed a button on his cell phone and shoved the device into his back pocket.

"That just leaves Tyler," Alaric leaned against the back of the couch and lifted his booted feet to the coffee table. "Think he'll be up for it?"

"If Caroline asks," Jeremy grinned as Damon rolled his eyes. A twinge of something that might have been pain flared on his left arm where the half-turned werewolf had bitten him. Damon knew it was all in his head, the wound had healed the instant Klaus's blood had hit his veins, but he brushed his hand over his arm anyway and tugged on the pushed up sleeve of his grey t-shirt. Caroline and Tyler's star-crossed species relationship was a recipe for disaster, but considering he and Stefan had been fighting over the same girl for their entire lives with no end in sight- he really had no room to talk.

"I gotta say, Damon," Alaric began, pouring two fingers of whiskey for himself from an antique crystal decanter on a side table. "I'm surprised by this divide and conquer plan of yours. Splitting up is an awfully cautious move. Are you thinking of turning over a new, responsible leaf?"

"Screw caution," Damon scoffed, turning away from the window overlooking the driveway and facing the room. "I'm tired of Klaus pulling the strings like we're a bunch of damn puppets. He wants to play the odds that we'll pick the wrong trail and waste time. Splitting up and following all of them is the best way to beat him at his own game."

"Unless _that's _his plan and he wants to split us up so we're easier to pick off," Jeremy offered, earning him a withering look from both Alaric and Damon.

Headlights suddenly shined through the windows, illuminating the hundreds of books lining the fall wall. Damon looked back out the window, noted the hulking shadow of a familiar black SUV coming up the driveway, and closed his eyes briefly, feeling equal parts relieved and tense. Caroline had succeeded in keeping Elena safe…and now it was his turn to come clean.

Tires screeched and ground to a halt, loud enough for even Alaric and Jeremy's human ears to detect, as Elena came to an abrupt stop in front of the house. Through the window, Damon watched both the driver and passenger doors fly open, noted Elena as she leapt from the vehicle and stalked up the sidewalk and then Caroline as she closed both doors and blurred to her friend's side. Damon sighed, completely unsurprised when two seconds later the front door flew open and hit the wall with such force it nearly shook the house.

"I'd say Elena knows," Damon shook his head and looked heavenward. "Let the self-righteous judging begin."

Anger came off Elena in waves as she stormed into the library. Ignoring both Alaric and Jeremy, she zeroed in on Damon. With blazing fury she closed the space between them until she was practically standing on his toes. Elena may have had to crane her neck to look Damon in the eye, but she did so, completely unafraid. Poking a finger at his chest, she declared. "You lied to me."

Damon shifted slightly on his feet and crossed his arms. The rest of the room was silent as he appraised her with a cool intensity only he could master. The beauty of every aesthetically perfect line of his face nearly got the best of her, but Elena defiantly lifted her chin.

In response, Damon's walls went up, giving nothing away. Blatantly dismissing the furious brunette in front of him, he raised a brow and addressed the blond vampire standing a few feet away. "Really, Caroline? You couldn't have waited a few more hours?"

"You _know _I'm a bad liar," Caroline voice was thin and reedy with distress, her shoulders slumped. "I told you that Elena would see right through me."

"You didn't even have to lie, though," A hint of exasperation bled through Damon's tight control. "You just had to keep your mouth shut."

"Well, that's a little hard to do when she's staring at the bloody mess _you _left in Alaric's apartment," Caroline turned to the social studies teacher. "Seriously, you couldn't have, like, hired a maid?"

"Hey, I'm not even living there," Alaric protested.

"Guys, none of that matters," Elena cried, glaring accusingly around the room at her friends. The game of pass-the-blame only intensified her feelings of betrayal, of being left out of the loop. They might as well have kept her shut up in the Salvatore house with another one of Bonnie's spells. Although her words were meant for all, Elena fixed her gaze on Damon. "The point is that you all kept the truth from me about what really happened to Stefan and I want to know why."

Elena waited for any one of her friends to speak, but it was clear that they had all silently deferred to Damon. The elder Salvatore said nothing, using the lengthy silence and his steady, unblinking stare as he always did – to intimidate and keep her off balance. She'd lost track of the number of times he'd successfully manipulated her this way and she'd be damned if she allowed it to happen tonight.

Eventually, after the standoff had reached uncomfortable heights and without offering one iota of explanation, Damon grabbed his jacket off the back of the couch and addressed the teacher. "Ric, give me your keys."

Alaric frowned, even as he began digging in his pocket. "What the hell for?"

Unperturbed, Damon shrugged on the leather jacket and grabbed Elena roughly by the upper arm. "She wants the truth. Do you want to me break in to your classroom or will you give me your damn keys?"

"There, was that so hard?" Alaric said with a patronizing smile.

Damon rolled his eyes and caught the keys as they arced through the air. "You kids be good and try not to burn the house down."

"What are you doing?" Elena protested in the entryway, finally jerking her arm free from Damon's grasp. In that moment, her confusing feelings toward the vampire took a backseat to a burning desire to punch him in the face. Hard.

Alone now with Elena, Damon uttered an exasperated curse. "You said you wanted the truth, so I'm taking you to the truth."

"Can't you just tell me?" she demanded.

"Can't you just trust me?" Damon shot back. In a move too fast for Elena's eyes to register, he grabbed the back of her neck and gently, but firmly pulled her closer. Automatically, her hands came up to ward him off and ended up trapped against his chest. Their foreheads nearly touching, Damon pitched his voice low, too low for even Caroline's super sensitive ears in the next room. "It's not good, Elena. And I don't think you're ready for them to know."

"I thought everybody already knew but me," Elena challenged, but something in his tone prompted her to speak equally low, a sub-whisper that only a vampire's sensitive ears could hear.

"Not all of it," Damon clarified with the subtlest shake of his head. "There are some things I thought you should hear first."

Damon said nothing more and it took Elena a second to realize he was waiting for her. Standing in the nearly dark entryway, she caught a glimpse of what lay behind his walls. Dread wrapped around and choked her stubborn pride. The vampire was offering her the truth. Not the watered down, safe for Elena version, but the unadulterated, messy, frightening truth.

Her acceptance was a living thing between them. Damon's hand behind her neck loosened, skirting her shoulder as it fell back to his side. Elena swallowed, stepping back and tugging her black leather jacket down around her slender hips. Then she ducked her head and tucked a strand of long dark hair behind her ear. "Okay. Lead the way."

* * *

><p>Stefan came to his senses stretched out on a black leather sofa in a dimly lit room. The walls were draped in lush brocades and silk, all the colors vibrant and rich. Candles burned everywhere: in sconces near the arched doorway, dripping from candelabras on antique side tables and from a chandelier in the middle of the low ceiling. The shadows they cast danced and writhed about the room. There were no windows, making it nearly impossible to guess the time of day.<p>

A soft whimper at his side made Stefan glance down to find his arm pinned beneath the delicate form of the brunette beauty he'd…played with the night before. Monica, he remembered. Or was she from two nights ago? Three? Rather than the blood stained clothes he'd been wearing when he left Mystic Falls, he was now clad in black pants, a pristine white shirt open at the collar and a black jacket. With detached curiosity he touched the girl's face, traced the bloodless lips and gaunt, hallowed out cheeks. The girl was nearly dead, drained of the blood that normally pumped through her veins, clinging to life by some quirk of biology. Bruises stood out beneath her closed lids and Stefan wondered dispassionately if they were from fatigue and lack of blood or the games he'd played with her.

The girl didn't look like Elena anymore. The long dark hair was dry and brittle and the once beautiful olive complexion was a sallow imitation of its former self. A memory teased his subconscious for one brief second before flaring to full glory in his mind's eye.

_Walls of stone, tallow candles, the sharp scent of magic mixing with desperation and fear. Elena in a black dress, tucked back in the shadows and leaning on the jagged rocks for support. Calling to him. Begging him for help. For pity. _

_For blood._

Stefan inhaled sharply. Not Elena. _Katherine. _Trapped in the enchanted tomb by a witch's curse. The bloodlust roared within him, nearly blinding him with its intensity. He gripped the unconscious, nameless girl's face tight enough to crack the delicate bones of her jaw and searched the slack features for Katherine. He felt like he was waking up from a long sleep, his true purpose finally remembered.

"Ah, I see you're awake. Still enjoying your pet?" Klaus's unmistakably silky voice annoyed Stefan. The Original sauntered through the raised archway, a human girl under each arm. Stefan looked them over in a cursory fashion, vaguely disappointed. They'd do for the night, but neither one would satisfy his craving. Klaus sensed his disappointment. "Patience, Ripper. Too many of your pretty dead girls will spoil our fun."

Stefan scowled as Klaus led the obviously compelled girls to a chaise lounge, also black leather, in the opposite corner of the room. Details came back to him in a rush. They were in Charleston, South Carolina. The plain metal door Klaus had opened to him a few nights ago had led to a club of sorts, a decadent den of the debauched and demented. Scores of the Original's vampire disciples had littered the halls, blissfully unaware of whom and what he truly was. The plush room they now occupied was on an upper floor. A vampire VIP section, as Klaus put it - just one of the many perks to infinite wealth and equally infinite life.

At first Stefan had been awed, swayed as he was by the insatiable lust for blood. So many willing veins just waiting for the gentle – or not so gentle – prick of his fangs. Now a direction, a sense of purpose, was slowly taking hold.

"What's the plan, Klaus?" he demanded, his words thick around his descended fangs. "What's next?"

The Original raised sandy brows toward the black painted ceiling. "My you are an impatient one. This is no weekend holiday, Stefan. We are in this together, for the long haul as they say. Why rush?"

"You know that brush off may have worked a few days ago when I was seeing the moon dance and blood drip from the walls, but the novelty is wearing off," Stefan replied. Swinging his legs to the floor, the brunette rolled off the couch, landing in an unnoticed heap on the carpet. Stefan's focus was returning, ignited by the flash of recognition, of Katherine, in the nearly dead girl's face. This was how it happened, every time. Once the disorienting and overwhelming draw of the human blood settled into something resembling normalcy, the pull to find her set in and he was as helpless to it as the bloodlust.

As if he understood already, Klaus grinned. "So, you're coming into your own. Excellent."

"What are you talking about?"

"I wondered," Klaus began, trailing his fingers over the delicate throat of one of the girls curled up adoringly at his side. "How you could have developed that sterling reputation when you were so…unhinged. I see your focus is returning."

The fingers continued caressing the tantalizing flesh and Stefan's gaze zeroed in, his mouth watering as dual desires threatened his newfound balance. Longingly, he gazed at the brunette on the floor at his feet. "I need to know what you want from me."

"Very well," Klaus intoned. "I have studied your movements ever since the first stories of your Ripper glories found their way to me. Where others of our kind might have been overwhelmed by the sheer…depravity of your exploits, I looked deeper. I came to understand who you sought, probably because I, too, hunted for her."

Stefan's entire being stilled. He thought that knowledge was his alone. The girl on the floor beckoned and he had to touch her. A pang of distress shot through him as he once again saw Katherine in the tomb, emaciated and desperate. A shell of her vibrant self. The whisper of his rapidly receding humanity cried out for Elena, but faded without Stefan exerting more than the slightest effort to silence it.

"My pursuit pales to your single-minded purpose," Klaus continued in the background as Stefan reached out and stroked the living dead girl. "But what I lacked in passion, I made up for in subtlety and organization."

"Your point?" Stefan was on his knees now next to the girl, his voice distant, preoccupied as he was by the memory of the blood surging down his throat after he'd bit into her neck.

"Between the two of us, we shall find her with ease," The Original promised. "Katerina Petrova will be ours."

The words stoked the primal beast just under the surface and it grinned. Stefan's features, however, remained dispassionate. Gently, he plucked the girl from the floor and laid her out on the leather sofa, arranging her hands as a mortician would and reverently smoothing the wrinkles out of her dress. The silk was a deep purple. Monica's had been pink.

Stefan shook the girl's shoulder and after a moment her eyelids fluttered. When they opened, two dark blue orbs stared back at him, not the rich chocolate brown he wanted, gazing at him with something close to adoration. Stefan tilted his head and trailed his knuckles down her pallid cheek.

Then, without a word or flicker of emotion for the girl who wasn't Katherine or Elena, he snapped her neck.

* * *

><p>The drive to the high school passed by silently, although the tension coming off of Elena spoke volumes. Damon spent the time monitoring the steady thrum of her heartbeat, noting the way it increased as they stepped out of the Camaro into the cool night air and made their way to the front entrance of the high school. The interior hallways were dark, but still he navigated them with ease. Away from the others and at the mercy of her inferior eyesight, Elena didn't fight the guiding hand at her elbow. The difference wasn't lost on Damon and he silently struggled with his crumbling resolve to be only what she needed, nothing more. <em>It will always be Stefan.<em> The mantra cut him, threatened to tear him apart, but he forced it through his brain over and over in time with his heavy footsteps.

Damon tried to keep the memory at arm's length, but what had happened in his bedroom the night Tyler Lockwood's bite had nearly killed him was always on his mind. Since Stefan had disappeared, Damon hadn't had much time for idle speculation, but whenever he slowed down long enough, errant thoughts of that night dominated his consciousness. Elena's arms around him, her soothing, tearful voice as he'd tried to say goodbye…her scent. The sensation of her lips against his and the way she tasted.

_Shit. _

They reached the classroom and Damon had to try two keys before finding the one that released the lock. Enough moonlight streamed through the open windows that Elena could see without any extra help. Physical distance did little to ease the ache in Damon's silent chest, but he deliberately dropped her arm and crossed to the opposite side of the room. Every little bit helped.

Emboldened now that she didn't need Damon to guide her, Elena went straight to the point. "Okay, so we're here. Now, why didn't you tell me that Stefan was drinking human blood again?"

"Because I saw what it did to you the last time he fell off the wagon. I needed to be sure," Damon replied, overly casual as he crossed his arms and leaned against a low bookshelf that ran the length of the windows. The wood was scarred and pitted with age, but sturdy. "Now I am."

Elena swallowed, her gaze drifting past his shoulder and out the window. The constant throbbing of her pulse doubled, although her face revealed nothing and Damon sensed she was fighting panic as she remembered the horrific consequences of Stefan's bloody rampage. "H-how do you know?"

The question held shades of disbelief and denial. Not an outright challenge to Damon's theory, but something that mirrored the vain hope he'd deluded himself with after finding the mess at Alaric's apartment. It wasn't that Damon had particularly cared who his brother killed. Hell, if the lightweight could somehow acclimate himself to human blood they'd all be better off, but he'd known what it would do to Elena and hurting her needlessly was simply unforgivable. Damon accepted that she relied on Stefan's unnatural moral standard to justify loving a vampire, even if he liked to keep that painful truth deeply buried.

Damon considered her for a moment, knowing he couldn't put it off any longer. The time had come to let Elena in on all his brother's quirks, no matter how messy or painful. Pushing off the bookshelf, Damon went to the whiteboard and grabbed a marker. He turned it over and over between his hands. He wasn't ready for this. He needed a drink.

"Jeremy's idea was a good one," Damon began and gestured to the map full of colored symbols. In the semi-darkness the red looked like flecks of blood long since dried. "He and Ric mapped this out. All the missing and dead in the area since Klaus and Stefan skipped town."

"There're so many," Elena shook her head, her eyes wide as she stepped around Alaric's desk and studied the board. She grasped at straws. "These can't all be Stefan and Klaus, though. Three different trails? They haven't had enough time."

"Unless Klaus is trying to buy time. I think he's got his little minions going off in different directions laying breadcrumbs for us to follow while he and Stefan get farther away."

For a long time, Elena stared at the map, each X and question mark hitting her with the full force of its meaning. Whatever she'd been preparing herself for, this wasn't it and when she spoke, the defiance and disbelief in her tone made it clear she wouldn't accept it. "No. No, this can't…I can't…There's just…too many. What-what are we supposed to do? How are we supposed to fight this? Klaus is ten steps ahead of us and if Stefan is drinking human blood again he won't even try to escape. How are we supposed to get Stefan back when doesn't want to be rescued, Damon? You remember what he was like last time and now…_now_ he's got a crazy vampire-werewolf hybrid egging him on."

"Elena, relax. And you wonder why I didn't want you to know," Damon snapped, stopping her flood of words. He wasn't annoyed with her. Far from it, in fact. Ignoring what he felt for her and keeping her at arm's length was so much harder when she was emotional and he had to fight the instinct to hold her and soothe away what hurt.

Damon's harsh reply got the reaction he wanted. Elena sucked in a breath and glared at him sharply. He relaxed, at ease with her scathing gaze. This game was so much easier when she was mad at him. Crossing her arms, she squared her shoulders and tipped her chin toward the board. "What's the plan, then?"

"I think Klaus is playing the odds that we'll pick one trail and follow it together," Damon explained, once again on solid footing. "There's a good chance we'll pick wrong and he and Stefan have more time to…do whatever it is they're doing. So, we split up. You, Caroline and Tyler take the northern route. Alaric, Jeremy and Bonnie will go west and I'll go south. Whoever finds them first wins the shiny prize."

Elena had a better idea. "No way. I'm going with you."

Damon raised a brow and scoffed. "Like hell you are."

"Yes. I am," Elena vowed and grabbed the marker from his hands. Slapping it against the board like a pointer, she traced the southern trail. "You can play all you want like Klaus has you fooled, but I know you, Damon. If you're taking this trail, then I am taking it too."

"No, you're not," Damon slowly and deliberately advanced on her, while internally he kicked himself for not preparing for her incredibly predictable suicidal response.

"What do the circles mean?"

Damon gripped the marker ledge beneath the board, his hands on either side of Elena's hips. The trap was meant to intimidate, but fighting, challenging him at every move was within her comfort zone, too and she didn't flinch. Despite his earlier promise, he really didn't want to tell her this part, about how bad it really was. Elena waited.

"When Stefan falls off the wagon he's a completely different person."

"I know, Damon," she snapped. "I was there the last time it happened, remember?"

"No, you were there when Stefan _slipped_," Damon returned with equal venom. _"_What you saw was just the beginning. A sixteen-year-old drunk on his first taste of top shelf. Once his system gets used to it, he's a true predator. He enjoys the darkest aspects of vampirism without regret. He's focused and determined. Nothing gets in the way of what he wants."

"He's like Klaus," Elena whispered.

"Oh, he's worse," Damon argued, backing away from Elena and giving her the harsh, unvarnished truth. "Compared to Stefan, Klaus has…_restraint._"

Elena stared at him silently and Damon let every word sink in to their full effect. Her skin had paled considerably and beneath her jacket and t-shirt her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. The moon had climbed higher, its light shifting and cloaking Elena in shadow. The symbols on the whiteboard were barely discernible, but she turned to them, her hair a dark curtain blocking her from his view. Eventually, she cleared her throat and spoke.

"The circles?"

An almost imperceptible quaver in her voice alerted Damon that she was close to the breaking point. Not that he could blame her. Even before he and Stefan had entered her life Elena had been through more than any seventeen year old should. The fact that she hadn't gone insane was either a testament to her strength or a sign that she was already crazy.

"I picked that route because Stefan has a type. He's as helpless to it as the bloodlust," he replied softly. No power in this world or the next could move him to be cruel now. "Petite, brunette, beautiful."

"What are you saying?" Elena looked at him sharply, denial etched into every line of her face. Damon had a violent desire to kill his brother as Elena's denial gave way to overwhelmed tears. "That all these girls…that they all…look like…"

Elena brought a trembling hand to her mouth to stifle a cry. With her other hand she gripped the eraser ledge. Her body started to shake with the silent sobs she'd been holding back for days. Just before she collapsed to the ground, Damon caught her by the waist and pulled her close, supporting her slight weight with ease. Without hesitation she curled her fingers into the open flaps of his jacket and clung to him, needing him in a way he'd longed for and now hated. Elena's pain was his pain; doubled because he knew of nothing to soften the blow.

Damon leaned against the whiteboard, not caring if he ruined the damnable trails of red, and closed his eyes. Elena in tears had been his worst case scenario when he had imagined coming clean, but now he wondered if the breakdown had been inevitable. Resilient as Elena was, too much had happened too fast. Damon wrapped his arm tighter around her waist, pulling her body completely flush to his, and cursed Stefan's weakness for human blood and the stupid, undeserved loyalty to his brother that led him into making deals with a devil like Klaus. Elena's hair was like silk beneath his fingers as he trailed his hand through it over and over. Meaningless words of comfort came to mind, but he couldn't bring himself to utter them. Instead he pressed his lips to her crown and silently reaffirmed his vow to get Stefan back – no matter what the cost.

For a long time Elena did nothing but sob as he held her, but eventually Damon caught words that turned into phrases of recrimination.

"All my fault," Her voice was still muffled by tears and his jacket. "He's looking for me and now they're dead."

Damon frowned and grabbed Elena's upper arms, forcing her to her feet. Cradling her tear-stained face in his hands, his thumbs automatically brushed away the faint tracks. "No, Elena, you don't understand. Listen to me. It's not you."

Elena frowned, confusion momentarily overcoming hysteria. "Then…who?"

"Katherine," Damon grimaced. "Stefan's looking for Katherine."


	4. Exodus From Genesis

_AN: In which Katherine actually appears..._

Chapter Four – Exodus from Genesis

Just before dawn, the street in front of Charleston Place was quiet. The South Carolina sky above the luxury hotel was changing from inky black to grey with the faintest stirrings of blue, but the sun had yet to break the horizon. Standing guard over a lock box with a meager assortment of keys, a bored valet leaned against the wooden podium near the entrance. It was the off-season and tourism was down, which made the graveyard shift from ten o'clock in the evening to six in the morning even more of a chore. The valet sighed, his eyelids drooping as he fought a losing battle with sleep.

A sudden breeze caressed the valet's face and he straightened, blinking stupidly. He had a vague impression of a figure, a stunning woman dressed in black from head to toe, with long, curly dark hair streaming out behind her as she moved past him at an impossible speed. His brow furrowed in confusion. The revolving door to his left spun in a lazy circle, but the garishly lit car park was empty. No one had gone in or out.

Scrubbing his face with his hand, the valet checked his watch and sighed. Twenty minutes to go. He wondered if he should talk to his supervisor about getting off the midnight shift. Clearly, working nights was starting to get to him if he was hallucinating beautiful women whizzing by him and sneaking into the hotel lobby unnoticed. No human could move that fast.

* * *

><p>The early morning sun beat down on the black asphalt driveway in front of the Salvatore house, absorbing the heat and reflecting it back twice over. Tyler Lockwood dragged Caroline's wheeled suitcase from the front step where she'd abandoned it to his jeep parked near the curb. Grunting with the effort, he hoisted the behemoth off the ground and tossed it into the back. Despite the added strength of his currently dormant werewolf side, sweat had broken out on his brow. The stupid thing weighed a ton.<p>

"You sure you know what you're getting into?" Jeremy sauntered across the grass, hands stuffed in his pockets. He tipped his chin toward the suitcase. "Looks like Caroline packed for a month instead of just a few days."

Tyler scoffed and leaned against the tailgate. Nodding toward the front door where Caroline and Bonnie were talking, he grumbled. "How come you're not lugging Bonnie's crap around?"

"Ah, because _my _girlfriend has a better way," Jeremy smirked and they both watched as the witch in question flicked her wrist, and the three suitcases lined up next to the Gilbert SUV put _themselves _into the open trunk. Beaming, Jeremy turned back to a now scowling Tyler. "Who said dating a witch was a bad thing?"

"Whatever, man," Tyler shook his head and automatically his gaze drifted to Caroline. Before Jeremy could catch him staring, he looked away and tried to hide his regret. "Besides, Caroline and I aren't dating."

The younger boy snorted. "Right. Why'd you agree to come on this kamikaze mission then?"

Before Tyler could respond, the front door opened and slammed shut. Damon was like a walking thunder cloud, stalking across the driveway to the old school black Camaro parked in the shade of a giant oak tree. A ripple of anxiety unfurled in Tyler's gut, but he ignored it.

Jeremy looked over his shoulder, following his friend's gaze toward the perpetually pissed off vampire. Sobering slightly, he nodded. "So, you're…making amends."

Tyler glanced briefly at Jeremy, his expression grim. Damon Salvatore had every right to kill him for what had happened the night of the last full moon, even if it had been an accident. Busying himself with the bungee cords to secure Caroline's suitcase, Tyler shrugged. "Stefan tried to help me once and I returned the favor by leading a bunch of people I didn't even know to kill him. He's in trouble now and it's the least I can do."

"And?"

"And…," Tyler's gaze drifted toward Caroline again. No matter how many times he'd seen the reigning Miss Mystic Falls throw a guy twice her size twenty yards through the air he still couldn't stifle his protective instincts. "Caroline needs someone to watch her back. She's too trusting."

"Oh, okay, I get it," Jeremy turned around and leaned against the side of the jeep. "You don't want to tempt fate by admitting you're doing this to get back in Damon's good graces. It's alright. If I'd nearly killed a hundred and fifty year old vampire, I'd be nervous, too."

"You're a dick," Tyler growled, almost punching a whole in the floor of the jeep with the hook of the last bungee cord. "That ring is making you cocky."

"Relax, dude. Damon's too busy being pissed at my sister to waste any time on you right now," Jeremy chuckled and crossed his arms, the sun winking conspicuously off the silver ring on his finger. "Besides, he healed. You're already forgiven."

* * *

><p>Unlike the sweltering front yard, the interior of the Salvatore house was like another world. Protected by the shade of ancient trees, the second floor was cool and dark. And quiet. Elena walked slowly over the highly polished wooden floorboards of the hallway, coming to a stop in the doorway of an empty room. Stefan's room. Noises carried up to her from below, all hustle and last minute packing, but Elena was removed, feeling a thousand miles away.<p>

The room hadn't been touched since Stefan's disappearance. At least Elena knew _she _hadn't set foot inside. Despite focusing her every thought on a way to bring him back, she shied away from the physical reminders of him - a difficult task considering that, lately, she practically _lived_ in his house.

"_All my fault! He's looking for me and now they're dead!" _

"_No, Elena, listen to me. It's not you."_

"_Then…who?" _

"_Katherine. Stefan's looking for Katherine."_

Elena sunk her teeth into her bottom lip, hard, and looked away. Damon's revelation had silenced her tears and ignited a bright fire of denial in her heart. Questioning the older Salvatore was second nature and she couldn't bring herself to stop, especially not in the face of such damning accusations. Elena vividly remembered what had happened the last time Stefan had tasted human blood – his relapse had been her fault after all. His kills had been violently random for days and she didn't care what Damon said now. There was no way the…_creature_ that Stefan became could already pick and choose his victims with such calculating cruelty. The sacrifice had been what…a week ago? Two? It didn't matter. Damon was just wrong. He had to be.

Still, a sour knot of jealousy and hatred toward the ageless vampire who bore her face had taken root deep within Elena. The brief stretch of time when she'd known Stefan's true nature, but nothing of his past with Katherine had become the Golden Age of their relationship. For awhile, as one catastrophe after another befell them, Elena had dreamed of returning to that time. It was her motivation for fighting against the Tomb vampires and then for awhile, Katherine. Then that spiteful bitch had compelled Jenna to stab herself and an innocence inside Elena had started to die. She knew then, that, no matter what evils they defeated she and Stefan could never go back.

"Elena!"

Elena looked up sharply at the sound of her name. Jeremy was at the foot of the stairs, taking them two at a time. With only the barest hint of reluctance, she turned away. There was nothing for her in Stefan's room and loitering in the doorway wouldn't bring him back any faster.

"What's up, Jer?" Elena called, bounding down the steps to meet her brother halfway on the switchback stairs.

Jeremy's mouth quirked as he stifled a grin. "You better hurry. Damon says he's leaving."

"Oh, he is, huh? He's not getting rid of me that easily," Elena rolled her eyes, recalling her _other _argument with the man. They hadn't exactly ironed out their differences of opinion on travel arrangements. The last time they spoke of it, Elena had been determined to go with Damon. Damon had sworn only over his dead body. He hadn't been amused when she'd pointed out the irony of that statement.

Jeremy caught her arm just before she started down the second half of the split staircase. The mischievous glint in his eye from only seconds before was gone, replaced by concern. "Is everything okay?"

Elena offered him a wry grin. "You're going to have to be a little more specific."

"Is there some reason I should be on Damon's side in this instead of yours?"

"What do you mean?" Elena bristled.

"I mean he's a vampire who is unpredictable on a good day," Jeremy pointed out, not unkindly. In fact, quite the opposite, he seemed reluctant to disparage the man. "I know he'd…do anything to keep you safe, but things have been different between you two since, well since-."

"You can say his name, Jeremy."

"Since _Stefan _left," he sighed. "So, answer the question. Is Ric making a mistake distracting Damon right now so he can't leave you stranded?"

"No, he's not," Elena didn't even give the matter a second thought. "Damon can whine and complain all he wants. I'm going with him. And you don't have to worry about it. I can handle him."

"Elena-."

"It's fine, Jeremy," Considering the matter closed, Elena turned and rushed down the rest of the stairs, booted heels hitting the wood with a hollow thud.

The heavy front door was open and as Elena crossed the threshold, she was temporarily blinded by the bright sunshine. Once her eyes adjusted to the light, she immediately noticed her bags on the driveway by Damon's car - very distinctly _not _in the trunk where she'd left them. Next to the bags, Alaric and Damon were engaged in a heated debate. Elena couldn't make out the words, but the way the rest of her friends kept hazarding glances her way, she figured Jeremy hadn't exaggerated. Sighing, she brushed past an uncharacteristically quiet Caroline, determined to settle this pointless debate once and for all.

Hyperaware of all things Elena, Damon had known the second she exited the house. He felt the weight of her gaze as she approached, but he ignored it, sneering at Ric instead. "I don't even know why we're still talking about this. She is going with Tyler and Caroline. End of discussion."

Elena didn't give Ric a chance to respond. "No, I'm going with you. End of discussion."

"You don't get to have a say," Damon countered, glaring at her over his shoulder.

"Why not?" she demanded, visibly stung.

"Because your plans always involve sacrificing yourself to the highest bidder," he snapped. "Keeping you alive is a full time job and I need to focus on finding Stefan."

"We make a good team," Elena argued, crossing her arms and lifting her chin. Dappled sunlight filtering through the trees, cast strange, writhing shadows over her face. "We worked together to rescue Stefan before."

"Yeah, and as I recall, youdidn't listen to me then either," Damon reminded her as he closed the scant distance between them in two deliberate steps.

"If I had, you'd still be standing in front of that house, angling for an invitation," she taunted, refusing to back down when Damon mimicked her stance. He remembered that day and how he'd been torn between irritation and admiration for her fearlessness. He'd realized too late that her bravery in the face of the Tomb vampires was really a thinly veiled death wish.

"Forget it, Elena," Damon said softly, his features deceptively calm as fire blazed behind his icy blue eyes. "It's not going to happen."

"You can try to intimidate me all you want," Elena replied, equally calm, but he was close enough to catch the pronounced uptick of her heartbeat. "It's not going to work. You don't scare me anymore, Damon. You haven't for a long time."

Oh, but he could, and he would if it meant convincing her to travel with Tyler and Caroline in relative safety. A ghost of a smile curved the very corners of Damon's lips and his eyes narrowed fractionally. Increasingly unsettled, but refusing to flinch Elena swallowed as she met his gaze. Damon noted the contrast to the first time they had met, the way she had started and stammered while he had studied her like a specimen in a jar, fascinated by her resemblance to Katherine. Back then, he would have sworn he'd never see Elena as anything but a pale imitation of the woman he loved.

"Stop it," she ordered, shifting her weight from foot to foot, but still refusing to be the first to look away. "We're wasting time we should be using to find Stefan."

The soft sound of a throat being cleared broke through Damon and Elena's battle of wills. Bonnie had moved away from the others to join them, her hands stuffed in the back pockets of her faded jeans. Addressing Damon, she said. "Elena has a point. It makes more sense for her to go with you."

All three turned to the witch with varying expressions of surprise. Elena's pleased, Alaric's curious and Damon's murderous. As usual, Bonnie ignored him and shrugged. "It'll be safer."

Alaric cast a wary look at Damon and Elena and asked. "Safer how?"

"Well, don't take this the wrong way, Elena, but…you're kinda the weak link," Bonnie explained almost apologetically. "Jeremy's got his ring, I've got my Power, Alaric's been hunting vampires for years. If we run into trouble we all bring something to the table. Same with Tyler and Caroline. They can take care of themselves. You, um…really can't."

"Bonnie!" Elena exclaimed incredulously.

"So, wait, let me get this straight," Damon held up a hand as he tried not to laugh. "Your compelling argument for me to take Elena is that she's a liability? That's brilliant, Bennett."

"I realize it's hard for you to think about anybody but yourself, Damon," Bonnie replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "But don't you think now might be a good time to try? I'm sure Stefan is counting on you to keep Elena safe."

"Oh my god, you guys," Elena huffed. "I'm not a toddler, I don't need a babysitter."

Ignoring her, Damon pinned Bonnie with a withering glare. "Listen, _witch, _you don't have the first idea what I'm thinking about or what Stefan would want."

Just as Bonnie took a breath, preparing to volley another verbal assault, Alaric stepped between the witch and the vampire. "Okay, guys. Separate corners. Damon, can I have a word?"

For a moment, Elena thought Damon would ignore the request, but after a final glance her way, he followed the social studies teacher, cursing under his breath.

"That was helpful, Bonnie," Elena grumbled, as Damon and Alaric made their way to the end of the driveway, completely out of earshot. "It's nice to know how utterly useless everybody thinks I am."

"Elena, that's not…I was trying to help," Bonnie protested.

"It's…fine," Elena sighed, carefully watching the exchange. Alaric seemed to be doing most of the talking and whatever his words, they clearly weren't what the stubborn vampire had wanted to hear. Damon shoulders tensed, and he spared her a brief glance before scowling and shaking his head. Alaric simply shrugged, almost apologetically, but the conversation was over. Swallowing, Elena stood her ground as Damon stalked back toward her, completely invading her personal space.

"You do what I tell you, when I tell you," Damon ordered, the set of his jaw leaving no room for argument. His walls were up again, his eyes a blank slate on which Elena could read nothing of his thoughts or what had abruptly changed his mind. "You got lucky last time. Klaus won't be as easy to manipulate as the tomb vampires and this will not work if I have to save your ass."

"I know," Elena replied and raised a brow. "He already killed me once."

The pointed reminder of how Klaus had bested them only weeks ago did exactly what she had intended. A crack appeared in Damon's stoic exterior, enough for Elena to catch a glimpse of the internal conflict and very real fear raging within him. Then the sun shifted, the shadows moved and whatever she thought she saw vanished. Without another word, Damon moved to the back of the Camaro, opened the trunk and started returning her bags. Elena had won, but she wondered at the cost, if forcing Damon's hand had really been the smartest move. An apology formed and immediately died on her lips as he threw her backpack into the backseat. Silently, she opened the passenger door and climbed inside, deciding to shelve the apology for later when Damon didn't look quite so ready to literally bite her head off.

Having watched the heated exchange between both Damon and Elena, Jeremy pulled Alaric aside, while Bonnie went to say goodbye to Caroline.

"What'd you say to Damon to change his mind?" Jeremy asked, one eye on his girlfriend as she gave the female vampire a hug before slowly beginning to walk back towards them.

Alaric shrugged. "Nothing, really. I just asked him whether he really wanted to trust Elena's life to anyone else."

* * *

><p>Elena looked up from the map spread across her lap and stared out the window at the scenery speeding by. Damon had insisted on taking smaller highways rather than a major freeway and while the view was certainly more scenic, Elena had seen trees, old plantation mansions and small town general stores her entire life. While the Camaro continued its smooth journey over endless stretches of asphalt, the monotonous landscape was giving her cabin fever.<p>

Damon was certainly no help. During the five hours they'd been on the road, Elena's every attempt at conversation had been met with little more than monosyllabic grunts. Now, she glanced at his profile out of the corner of her eye and sighed softly at the absolute focus he used in ignoring her presence. He steered with one hand casually draped over the steering wheel, while his other arm rested on the open window sill. Aside from a distinctly unnatural stillnessin his posture, Damon looked so incredibly _human, _Elena caught herself staring, as she tried to find a hint of the vampire that lurked within.

Returning her attention to the map, Elena attempted to pinpoint their location. Bonnie's assessment of her value to the group had cut her much more deeply than she was willing to admit, so she'd pulled a neatly folded roadmap out of the glove compartment and set about monitoring their course. At first it had been easy. Growing up in Mystic Falls, she knew the area surrounding it by heart, but the further they drove, the more twists and turns and back roads Damon took and Elena was soon hopelessly lost.

"Okay, I give up," Elena grumbled, awkwardly folding the map and stuffing it back in the glove compartment. A sign identifying the current highway they were on grew in size and Elena glared at it as they sped past. "I can't even find this stupid road on the map."

For the first time in an hour, Damon moved, glancing at the closed glove compartment. "I think that map came with the car."

Surprised to hear him speak, Elena's responded gruffly. "So? What's that got to do with it?"

"I got the car in '68, Elena," Damon lifted his gaze to her briefly before returning his attention to the road, adding dryly. "That map's at least forty three years old."

"Oh," Elena said, feeling the rush of heat as her cheeks flushed. "I guess it might be a little out dated."

"Just a little."

Once again, silence reigned. Elena sighed, propping her elbow against the window and closing her eyes to the lush scenery, as she wallowed in self pity. Stefan was gone, her friends thought she was worthless and she was stuck in a car on an open ended road trip with a pissed off, grudge holding vampire who happened to be channeling all his ire directly at her. _Fantastic. _

"So, how long is this silent treatment going to last?" Elena demanded, shifting restlessly to face Damon. "Because if I'd known that's what I was in for, I wouldn't have-."

"Wouldn't have what?" he interrupted and flicked a seething gaze her way. "Stamped your foot and had a temper tantrum? Whatever. You won. I caved. You're here. I didn't know I was supposed to entertain you, too."

"That's not…" she sighed, wondering why all of a sudden everything they said to one another carried such a sharp edge. "I'm not asking for entertainment, Damon, just civil conversation."

"By all means, your wish is my command," Damon sneered. "What would you like to talk about, Elena? You pick the topic, of course, because if you don't like it, you'll just change it anyway."

"Alright, I get it," Elena turned in her seat, pressing her back against the door and glaring at him. "I'm sorry you got saddled with a worthless liability like me, okay?"

"Elena, you're not…worthless. Look," Damon pressed his lips together and shook his head. "Just…forget it. Believe it or not, there is a limit as to how much of our endless war of words I can endure on a daily basis. I don't actually _like _fighting with you all the time."

"Neither do I," Elena admitted, thrown off guard by the sudden shift in his demeanor. "It's just seems…easier sometimes."

Damon raised a brow, took his eyes off the road and pinned Elena with his gaze for a dangerously long time. She froze under it, aware that somehow he was weighing and measuring her statement to find the truth that lay beneath. Elena held her breath and let him look, wondering what he'd find since she couldn't even make sense of her feelings these days.

"Nothing with you is easy," he said, returning his attention to the road just before it curved sharply to the left. The lightness in his tone contrasted sharply with his statement and Elena felt chastised.

"Fine. I won't argue with you anymore," Elena offered, earning her a snort of derision from Damon. Admittedly, zero arguments might be reaching too far too fast. "Okay, I will argue _less_."

"Yeah, I'll believe_ that_ when I see it," he sneered, but this time the look he shot her way held a hint of amusement. Gradually, the tension eased, and since Damon had actually strung a full sentence together Elena felt brave enough to broach the subject that had been dancing on the edge of her conscious mind for days.

"Damon," she began, toying with a loose thread in the otherwise pristine upholstery of the Camaro's interior. "What did you mean when you said Stefan was…looking for Katherine?"

Damon laughed, genuinely incredulous. "You want to argue less and _this _is where you start? Wow." He paused, and glanced at her evenly. "You are so not ready for this."

"I wasn't ready for my parents or Jenna to die. I wasn't ready to fall in love with…a vampire," Elena pointed out, noting the way Damon's jaw ticked at the mention of the L word. "I doubt I'll ever be _ready_ to hear why Stefan is stalking and killing girls who look like me and his five hundred year old ex-girlfriend, so let's just get it over with."

"Fair enough," Damon allowed. The Camaro sped through a couple more curves while he searched for the best place to begin. "The past few months, since I came back to Mystic Falls, is the longest I've been in the same town as my brother since we were…alive. I wasn't with him while he went all blood-crazed vampire, so I don't know _why_ he does it."

"Okay," Elena said with a slight nod. It felt like a warning and suddenly, she was nervous.

"I kept tabs on Stefan, particularly when he fell off the wagon because for about five seconds he was interesting again," he continued, glancing at Elena as if to gauge her reaction. "Plus, I didn't want him to get himself killed. I'd already claimed that."

Elena rolled her eyes, but kept her word and didn't argue. Damon could pretend all he wanted that his rivalry with Stefan was alive and well, but she knew both brothers better than that. "I didn't notice right after we had turned, but when Stefan relapsed the pattern was obvious. At least to me. The first few days his victims are random. Anybody is fair game, but once he's used to the human blood, he develops a preference. A type."

"So, he likes brunettes," Elena shrugged, knowing full well she was grasping at straws. "That doesn't mean he's looking for Katherine."

"It's not just hair color," Damon insisted. "Jeremy found pictures of most of the dead and missing girls that made it to the map and every one of them could be Katherine's long lost sister. Trust me. He's seeking her out."

"Why?" she demanded, in need of a concrete explanation.

"I told you, I don't know," he replied more patiently than she deserved. "I never asked. Until you came along and forced the issue, Katherine wasn't really a hot topic of conversation between the two of us."

"Maybe…maybe it's because Katherine turned him," Elena frowned and chose her words carefully, unsure how she hoped Damon would respond. "Did you ever, um, _look _for her?"

"You mean aside from the hundred and forty-six years I spent completely obsessed with her?" Damon shot her a wry look. "No, Elena, I never felt compelled to seek out girls with your face, drain them to the edge of death and then snap their necks."

Elena paled and curled her fingers into the edge of the front seat. Damon closed his eyes briefly and winced. "Sorry, I was…working up to that part. The way Stefan…the way he kills them is…very specific. It takes a while. And by all accounts, he savors every minute of it. That's another reason I know it's Katherine."

"What do you mean?" Elena asked, looking slightly nauseas. Damon had been right. She was nowhere near ready for this. For any of it.

"I've seen a lot of people die a lot of different ways," he explained, his grip on the steering wheel so tight the leather creaked beneath his fingers. The sun had reached its highest point and he reached for his sunglasses. "Torturing someone takes time, care…passion. Katherine's the only person who ever inspired that kind of passion in Stefan."

* * *

><p><em>AN Pt. 2: Thank you so, so much for your incredibly generous replies. I'm in a bit of a rush at the moment to get this posted, but I'll reply to all of you in turn later tonight! Thank you as well for spreading the word about my fic. Keep it up, if you feel the story is worth it. I appreciate it tremendously. <em>


	5. They've Got A Secret

Chapter Five – They've Got A Secret

Leaning against the balcony railing of her penthouse suite, Katherine watched the sunset, contemplating, again, if she should find something magical about the delicate mix of yellows, oranges, reds and purples or the warmth of the dying rays against her skin. Absently, she fingered the delicate lapis lazuli earrings she'd chosen for the day and tried to muster up some appreciation for the view that would kill the majority of her kind. Nothing. The thrill, as they say, was gone. If it had ever been there in the first place.

Silently, Katherine slipped back through the open door and into the darkened suite where a pair of knee-high black stiletto boots were piled haphazardly at the foot of the bed. Sitting on the edge of the mattress she began pulling them over her black leather pants, grimacing as the boning of her hand made corset top dug into her flesh as she bent awkwardly. Why didn't she ever learn to put the boots on first? In seconds they were zipped into place, the discomfort forgotten.

Brushes, compacts and small tubes of makeup were scattered all over the vanity. Katherine made her way to the illuminated mirror, her heels sinking into the plush carpet. Bracing her arms on the edge of the messy counter, she studied her reflection. Long, ebony ringlets framed her perfect features. Rich chocolate colored eyes flashed beneath a thick fringe of black lashes. She'd kept her eye makeup to a minimum tonight, lining them only with black kohl liner, in favor of playing up her mouth. In an instant, her bright red lips curved into the seductive, calculating smirk that had become her trademark. The effect was practiced perfection and just as quickly it disappeared. After a moment's thought, she smiled again, full and genuine, working muscles that she'd ignored for years. It was the sort of smile she had seen Elena Gilbert use. Sweet and innocent, perfect for a girl who actually was the seventeen years she appeared to be. Katherine dropped the smile quickly. Once upon a time, it would have looked right on her features, but that girl had died long before she hung herself from the rafters of Rose's cottage. For the first time in five hundred years, Katherine wondered if she missed the naïve, human Katerina Petrova.

Such reminiscing was pointless, though, and as suddenly as the thought popped into her head, Katherine dismissed it. Straightening up, she ran her hands through her hair, lifting and twisting the curls in such a way as to expose the smooth column of her throat and highlight the full swell of her breasts, plumped up by the corset. How much of a spectacle did she want to make tonight? The leather and lace highlighted her curves to full effect and would drive every man who saw her wild. Tonight, however, only one man's reaction mattered, and his recent taste ran toward pony tails and yoga pants. He may be indulging his dark side, but Katherine doubted Stefan would be impressed with sophisticated updos and miles of exposed flesh.

Besides, Katherine reasoned, letting her long hair fall back around her shoulders as she snatched her fitted jacket from the chair near the door. This night wasn't about seduction. For the first time in a century, she was going to let Stefan do what he'd been attempting to do every time he succumbed to human blood.

She was going to let him catch her.

* * *

><p>After driving all day and following the crude trail of dead and missing into Kentucky, Alaric finally pulled into the parking lot of a not completely horrendous looking hotel just after darkness fell. Unlike Damon, he'd taken the freeway. Jeremy's laptop got better wireless reception that way and the kid insisted on continuing the search for more potential victims. Alaric wasn't sure what to think of the younger man's determination, but he figured it made him feel useful and that was something they all needed.<p>

Sure enough, the second Alaric unlocked the door to their shared hotel room, Jeremy claimed the bed closet to the door and booted up his computer. Alaric eyed the two double beds and was about to offer to sleep in the car when Bonnie curled up on the bed beside Jeremy without discussion. Shrugging, the vampire hunter tossed his duffle bag on the unclaimed bed and put aside his qualms. On this trip, he wasn't their teacher and he sure as hell wasn't about to play babysitter. Bonnie had her Power and Jeremy had his ring, both of which could prove utterly pointless when face to face with either Klaus or Stefan, so if they wanted to share a bed, who was he to say anything?

"Anything new?" Alaric asked, sprawling out on the surprisingly comfortable mattress and staring at the ceiling. It had that dated, popcorn texture and after staring at an endless stretch of freeway all day, he found the chaotic pattern soothing.

Jeremy ignored him, but Bonnie shook her head. "He's still sifting through missing persons bulletins for ones that…fit the pattern. Nothing yet."

"I suppose that's a good thing."

"I'm going to do some spells," Bonnie decided, crawling off the bed to dig through the smallest of the three suitcases she'd packed. "See what the spirits around here have to say."

Alaric nodded, but said nothing. The urgency that had fueled their quickly organized mission had faded and he was now realizing they really didn't have much of a plan. Almost as if he'd read his thoughts, Jeremy spoke, his eyes glued to the glowing computer screen.

"Anybody have any idea what we're supposed to do if we find Klaus? Last I heard the guy was invincible."

Bonnie stilled, a candle in each hand as she arranged the ritual circle for her magic. Alaric sat up and turned, bracing his elbows on his knees. Neither one of them spoke. Jeremy raised his eyes from the computer screen and noted their blank stares. He smirked. "That's what I thought."

"I don't think Damon believes we will find Klaus," Alaric admitted. "Pretty sure he knows where Stefan is and it's not Kentucky or Pennsylvania."

Bonnie frowned. "Why do you say that?"

"The map," Jeremy revealed, looking back down at the computer screen. "The trail south had the most Elena look-a-likes."

Stricken, the witch rocked back on her heels in the middle of the carpet and looked at each man accusingly. "Then what are we even doing here? If Damon knows Stefan and Klaus went south, we should be there. Or does that cocky moron think he can handle an Original alone?"

"I don't know for sure," Alaric quickly clarified, kicking himself for getting Bonnie worked up over a theory. "It's just a guess, but even if Klaus isn't here, _something _is targeting girls who look like Elena. Whether that's at his bidding or not, we might as well try to stop it."

The thought pacified Bonnie and after a moment, she returned to her ritual, while Jeremy continued his internet searches. Alaric was left to contemplate his own words. It had been so long since he'd been hunting anything but the latest monster to plague Mystic Falls that the idea of fighting something unrelated had a distinct allure. What would it be like, he wondered, to take on an average, ordinary, run-of-the-mill vampire after facing Originals like Klaus and Elijah? He smiled as the appeal grew with each passing second.

A slight whoosh of air drew his attention back to Bonnie. The candles had flared to life, small flames dancing atop plain white tapers. Bonnie began to chant softly. Jeremy heard it, too, and the clicking of the keys stopped so he could keep an eye on his girlfriend.

"Hey, Ric," Jeremy began softly so as not to disturb the ritual.

"Yeah?"

"Katherine's a doppelganger, too, right? I mean, everybody always called Elena the second Petrova doppelganger, so Katherine would have had to have been the first."

"I guess," Alaric frowned. "What about it?"

Jeremy shrugged. "I was just wondering if anybody knew who this original Petrova chick is. No one's ever mentioned her."

Just then the candles sputtered, their bright light momentarily fading before flaring back to life and shooting above the candles an extra six inches. Bonnie's concentration broke and all three instinctively leaned away from the dangerous bursts of fire. As quickly as the phenomenon occurred, the flames returned to normal.

"What the hell was that?" Jeremy demanded, irritated as always by anything even vaguely threatening to Bonnie.

"I don't know. They just…I'm going to try it again," the witch shifted slightly on the floor and cast Jeremy a pointed look. "Yes, I'll be careful."

The ritual began again but Alaric stretched out on the bed rather than watch. Jeremy's question nagged at him long after the boy returned to his computer.

Who was the original Petrova?

* * *

><p>At a crossroads just over the South Carolina border, the Camaro's headlights cut a swath of light across the weather beaten wooden siding of a roadhouse. An old Phillips 66 gas station occupied another corner, but judging from the prices on the marquee and the way the weeds were overtaking the cemented lot, it had been abandoned long ago. Damon parked the car and pulled the keys from the ignition, silently observing the only other vehicles in sight. Knowing the façade of abandonment was a deliberate ruse, he dismissed the old beat up Ford and only slightly newer Cadillac. Their presence told him nothing.<p>

The bar had no name, and to those living within fifty miles it was at once alluring and forbidding. Many a missing person was rumored to have been last seen within its four walls, but investigations by authorities never bore any fruit. The odd concerned family member who took matters into their own hands came away with nothing but an inexplicable certainty that whatever had happened to their loved one, it hadn't happened there.

Those who did frequent it called it simply The Crossroads.

Shifting his focus, Damon turned and stretched his arm across the back of the seat. Elena was curled up in the passenger seat, asleep, her hair a thick black curtain in the dark. Without thinking, he reached for her, his fingers itching to brush the thick, soft locks behind her ear so he could see her face. At the last second he stopped, curling his hand into a fist and pressing it to his mouth. Taking even small liberties with Elena was a slippery slope.

"Elena," he called softly, settling for the brief contact of reaching out to gently shake her shoulder.

Almost instantly, Elena stirred, blinking sleep away as she sat up in the passenger seat. Pushing her hair off her face, she looked around. "Where are we?"

"Welcome to the absolute middle of nowhere," Damon replied, gesturing to the vast expanse of nothingness that surrounded them before returning his attention to Elena.

"Okay, and what are we doing here?"

"Fact finding," Damon shrugged. "I'm hoping I know a guy who knows a guy who can tell me where Klaus likes to hide."

Elena looked at him skeptically. "You're hoping?"

"You have any better ideas?" he raised a brow.

Elena had to admit she didn't. "So, what do we do, just walk in and start asking questions?"

"I haven't decided yet," Damon replied with a scowl. No one had entered or exited through the front entrance since he'd pulled in and no one seemed to have detected his presence, but he knew that meant nothing. The real entrance was around back, through the cellar, and he knew that at least three sets of hyper-vigilant vampire eyes had been watching their approach since the Camaro's headlights pierced the horizon. Agitated, Damon took his arm off the back of the seat and gripped the steering wheel with both hands, drumming his thumbs along the edge in a restless pattern. "This is exactly why I didn't want to bring you with me."

Turning in the seat to face him, Elena tucked her hair behind her ear and frowned. "What do you mean?"

"In there, you're food," Damon pointed toward the rundown building. "If I take you in there I am guaranteed to get into a fight. I leave you out here – assuming for a moment that you'd even listen to me – you'd be dead before I ordered my first drink. Rock. Hard place. Get it?"

Rather than recoil in fear, Elena laughed. "So, you're debating between my certain death and a bar fight? I think I'm insulted."

"Hey, I happen to like this shirt. I don't want to ruin it," Damon replied dryly. "Besides, you're death is pretty imminent either way. It's just a question of how much I get my ass kicked before it's all over."

"Damon Salvatore, are you actually nervous?" Elena gasped in mock surprise. "Could we possibly be getting ourselves into a situation you can't charm your way out of?"

"You're awfully glib in the face of certain death," he pointed out. They fell into a thoughtful silence, each contemplating the decrepit looking bar. Just as Damon was considering driving to the nearest hotel and tying her to a chair so she'd stay put, Elena spoke.

"So, that's a vampire bar, right?"

Damon grimaced. She made it sound so _True Blood_-y. "More or less. Vampires, witches, warlocks…probably werewolves, too," he grumbled, merely speaking the species' name left a bitter taste in his mouth. "There'll be some humans."

Elena made a face. "Seriously?"

"They'll be compelled and half drained, but yeah," Damon continued to weigh his options. Maybe if he made Elena crawl into the trunk…with a shake of his head he dismissed the idea. The redneck idiots would simply destroy his car and _then _kill her. Movement out of the corner of his eye pulled his attention back to the interior of the vehicle. Elena had unbuckled her seatbelt and now, to Damon's astonishment, was stripping her loose fitting purple top over her head. "What the hell are you doing?"

Tossing the shirt over her shoulder, Elena – clad now in a simple black cami that clung to her like a second skin – shook out her disheveled hair and grinned. "I have a plan."

"And this plan involves getting naked?" Damon asked, staring unabashedly as Elena leaned over the seat and grabbed one of her bags.

She cast him a withering look. "You wish."

"Yeah, and?" he demanded, seeing no point in lying about the obvious. Elena rolled her eyes, but she couldn't hide how they sparkled with promise. She was clearly excited and that made Damon very, very nervous. "Okay, Elena, what-."

"Shut up and give me a minute," she replied, cutting him off definitively. From her bag, Elena extracted a small, pink case that seemed absurdly out of place in their surroundings. Damon's curiosity overcame his common sense as he watched her use a small mirror and the full moon to apply eye liner, mascara and blood red lipstick. In a matter of minutes, she finished her task, tossing the products back in the pink case and returning it all to her bag. Running her fingers through her hair, Elena destroyed her perfect center part and turned to Damon expectantly.

"Okay. Who am I?"

He stared at her. She'd lined her eyes, making them stand out under the thick fringe of her lashes and even in the shadowy interior of the Camaro her lips made his mouth water, but she was still Elena. If her goal was to hide who she was, she'd need a lot more than makeup. Damon raised a brow. "Is this a trick question?"

"Damon, I'm serious," Elena raised a brow and very slowly and deliberately propped her booted foot on the dash. His instant cringe brought a slow grin to her ruby painted lips as she watched him from the corner of her eye. Ebony hair framed a mischievous but haughty expression that was at once alluring and yet somehow made his blood run cold.

And then it clicked.

"No," he declared, driven beyond both snark and wit by the sheer inanity of her plan. "No fucking way."

"Why not?" she demanded, pitching her voice low in a perfect imitation of Katherine. "How many times has that bitch pretended to be me? I think I deserve a little…payback."

"No."

Exasperated, Elena huffed and dropped her foot back to the floor. "Do you have a better idea?"

"Yeah, remember the one where you went with Ric and I wasn't even having this stupid conversation?" Damon scowled and tore his gaze away from Elena. Now when he looked at her, he couldn't help but see Katherine and the feeling of wanting the one and hating the other made it harder to think. He dragged his hand over his mouth and propped his elbow on the steering wheel.

They'd been sitting there too long already. Damon was sure by now the entire bar had been alerted to the presence of the new car that had pulled into the parking lot and the occupants that had made no move to exit. Whatever element of anonymity they'd possessed was gone. The second they walked through the doors, every single eye would be on them. Damon glanced at Elena and found her watching him impatiently. Looking like she did, every eye would be on them anyway.

"Damon, come on," she pressed. "It's a good idea. If they think I'm Katherine, they'll leave me alone. I can do this."

Damon blew out a breath. He knew she could. The second Elena had opened her mouth and spoken to him in that maddening tone that dripped with the promise of sex and danger, he'd known. Cursing, he came to a decision and draped his arm across the back of the seat again, bringing their faces only inches apart.

"You will listen to me and you will follow my lead," Damon ordered, leaving no room for argument. "Once we start this we _cannot _drop it. You've got to be Katherine until we get back in my car and out of this damned parking lot, understand?"

For one brief moment, Elena's dark gaze reflected all of the fear and apprehension appropriate for the suicidal mission they were about to embark upon. Then just as quickly, she swallowed and put on Katherine's mask. A corner of her mouth hooked up and Damon couldn't help but follow it with his eyes. She leaned closer, reached up and patted his cheek softly. "Understood."

"Elena-."

"I promise," she said sincerely. "Really. I'll follow your lead."

Steeling himself, Damon nodded. "Wait there." He climbed out of the car and in an instant blurred around the front and to open the passenger door for Elena. He held out a hand. "Ready?"

Elena looked up at him through her thick lashes and took his hand, exiting the car with an otherworldly grace that almost had _him _convinced she was a vampire. Closing his eyes, Damon slammed the passenger door with enough force to rock the vehicle on its wheels. He did _not _like this plan. Never mind the fact that Elena had no hope of maintaining the charade if anybody challenged her physically, he hated looking at her and seeing the woman who'd ruined his life.

"Are you coming, Damon?" Elena demanded, looking over her shoulder and tilting her head in a way that bared her throat like an offering to the vampire watchdogs hiding in the shadows. The move was stupid and reckless and _exactly _the kind of thing Katherine would do to tease those who didn't know her true nature.

_Bury it_, Damon thought. His weakness, his _humanity, _would only get Elena killed. Resolutely, he pushed aside the swiftly churning whirlpool of emotion that raged at the charade and forced a mask of bored indifference onto his features.

"The entrance is around back," he replied, shoving his hands in his pockets and joining Elena. They walked around the building on a well worn path through half dead weeds. The cellar door was propped open and no one stood guard at the entrance. Damon paused and looked meaningfully at Elena, giving her one more chance to change her mind. The brunette merely arched a brow and started down the stairs. Despite himself, Damon smirked and shook his head. No matter how misguided, her bravery made him proud.

At the bottom of the stairs, they paused and Damon couldn't help but bring a protective hand to Elena's back. The interior was dim, stained glass wall sconces casting subdued ruby light over the four person booths lining the walls. Although, the underground space was nicer than the dilapidated exterior led one to believe, there was nothing fancy about the scuffed wooden floor or the rickety tables with their mismatched chairs. Descending from the ceiling on chains, overhead lights lit the ancient twin pool tables on the opposite side of the room. A bar with unstable looking stools took up everything to the immediate right. Despite the fact that not one head had turned at their arrival, Damon knew that every eye in the place was focused on them.

"You're going to have to calm down," Damon murmured, curling his hand possessively around Elena's hip and pulling her tightly to his side. The scent of her shampoo flooded his senses as he buried his nose in her hair to whisper in her ear. "You're heart is beating so hard I can hear it. They will, too."

Mimicking the intimate gesture, Elena trailed a hand up his neck and dragged a finger along his jaw. So softly the words were barely a whisper, she asked. "How the hell am I supposed to help that?"

"This was your genius idea," Damon reminded her with a sardonic grin. "Time to show me what you got, _Katherine_."

* * *

><p>Stefan's bloodlust was insatiable, leading him to spurn the sedentary surroundings of what he now considered Klaus's safe house and hit the streets of Charleston. To <em>hunt. <em>The anticipation of the chase, the thrill of that first gush of arterial blood hitting the back of his throat, and the remnants of his victims' stifled screams echoing in his head melded together to form a single, all consuming need he couldn't deny. Indulgence was the key, and it momentarily sated the cravings that left him half mad.

Tonight, however, it wasn't working.

The stunning epiphany that it was really Katherine he sought, and not Elena, had proven a double edged sword. Naming his holy grail had given Stefan a goal - something to anchor him when the bloodlust threatened to tear his mind to shreds – but he had no direction, no where to start. Katherine had disappeared the night he had succumbed to human blood and despite his searching, he had no idea how to find her.

Panting, Stefan leaned against the dirty brick wall of an alley in the warehouse district and let his third victim of the night slide down his body and land with a dull thud on the cluttered ground. In the last hour, he'd consumed more blood than he used to in a week, but the rich, satisfying taste quickly faded. He still craved something more. _Someone_ more.

Stepping callously over the body at his feet, Stefan wiped the blood from his lips. As his desires had become more defined, his victims had changed in appearance. This latest girl – still small and brunette – had worn her hair in cascading curls, her black leather skirt short and tight. The studded collar of her halter top had momentarily been in his way until he'd ripped it free and nearly torn her throat out in his haste to taste her. The first gush of blood had been heaven, a near perfect release, but by the time he'd had drained her dry, the hallucination of Katherine had disappeared. The dead girl had been nothing more than that: dead.

Traveling miles in the span of mere minutes, Stefan stopped suddenly in the middle of an empty, residential street. The houses lining the block were dark, silent, but someone hovered on the periphery of his senses. Someone watching him…waiting for him.

Traveling at human speed, he walked down one block, took a right and headed down another. The weight of a hidden gaze never left him, growing stronger as he came upon a private cemetery. Through the wrought iron fence he saw huge crypts and ornate tombstones, the garish monuments of those who felt, even in death, a need to prove something to the living. At the end of the block, Stefan found the gated entrance open, a silhouetted figure waiting in the moonlight. All long legs and luscious curls, he knew in an instant the figure wasn't a trick of his blood addled brain. Not this time. The specter he'd been hunting and killing by proxy every time he succumbed to temptation was standing before him. _Katherine._

Then he blinked, and she was gone.

Stefan stood still for a long moment of stupefied paralysis, loss cutting him deeply, leaving him floundering. Had he really seen her? Had it really been Katherine? Heedless of any eyes upon him, Stefan ran as only a vampire could through the cemetery gates. Desperation had a clarifying effect, his senses sharpened to a fine point as he scanned the crypts and monuments with keen eyes. Behind him the iron barred gate clashed and latched with a thunderous boom and he whirled around hoping to catch her, but once again, he was denied.

With a growl of frustration, Stefan was about to run back toward the gate when a scent of something familiar caught his attention. Closing his eyes, he quieted the rest of his senses and inhaled slowly. Sandalwood and jasmine wafted sensuously on the breeze. He tracked it without moving as the scent curved around and behind him. Focused now, he caught the faintest scrape of a stiletto heel on worn cobblestones.

In a burst of speed impressive even for one of his kind, Stefan turned and ran toward the nearest crypt. The tiny sliver of time it took him to move from the path alerted Katherine to his presence, but didn't give her enough time to escape. Stefan slammed into her with enough power to send them both careening through the closed and bolted crypt door, hitting the dusty tiled floor with equal force, and landing in a heap amidst splintered wood and broken glass, cracking the tiles below them.

Katherine's laughter started softly and built to echo in the stale air. Refusing to lose her again, Stefan rolled on top of her, straddling her waist and pinning her wrists above her head. The move brought their faces inches apart and he took advantage, drinking her in with his gaze.

"My, my, my," Katherine drawled breathlessly. "Human blood does wonders for your reflexes."

The sound of her voice ignited his nerves, soothing some and inflaming others. Desire of every shade built within him and coalesced into something that rode the razor fine line between love and hate. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to kill her. His fangs descended and a hungry heat burned behind his eyes. Her name dripped like venom from his lips. "Katherine."

"Hey, Stefan," she grinned, showing fang. "Did you miss me?"

_AN: Katherine has arrived! Took her long enough, right? I can't wait to hear what you think. Thanks so much for reading!_


	6. A Human Reaction

Chapter Six - A Human Reaction

The human blood made him faster, sharper and far more dangerous, but she was older and had been eluding those who wanted her dead for centuries. Had she wanted to, she could have disappeared in the middle of a crowded room and no one would even remember she'd been there. However this time, with this man, getting caught was the whole point.

Pinned to the ground, with shards of glass and chunks of crumbled masonry digging into her shoulder blades through her jacket, Katherine studied the new Stefan Salvatore. His fangs were distended while a swirling mass of veins writhed around his bloodshot eyes. Deadly intent dripped from every pore, but behind the mask of a monster, she could see the cracks in his sanity where the blood had wreaked havoc on his psyche. Pride at the way he'd embraced his true nature warred with concern for the damage it might do to the man she loved.

Katherine tugged at her captured wrists halfheartedly, but Stefan held fast. Tilting her head, she gave him a warning smile. "Stefan, I didn't come to fight." If he heard her, Stefan made no move to release his hold. She sighed. "But I will."

With a burst of superhuman strength and speed, Katherine yanked her wrists free, grabbed Stefan by the throat and pinned him to the wall of the crypt. Surprise forced his features back to their normal, human form, though his fangs remained. Stepping between his wide stance, Katherine closed the distance between them to nothing and grinned when Stefan's gaze drifted predictably toward the exposed curve of her breasts. "I didn't come for _that_, either…although that does sound like fun."

"I've been looking for you," the words tumbled out and Stefan seemed surprised. Katherine's grin faltered slightly and she loosened the grip on his throat.

"I know."

"Why?" Stefan asked helplessly. With trembling fingers he touched her face, lightly at first, just skirting her cheekbone, but need made him bold and he buried his hand in her hair. "Why do I need to _you?_"

Rather than be offended at Stefan's obvious distress over seeking her out, Katherine merely shrugged. "Old habits are hard to break."

"I see you," Stefan continued, closing his fist around the silky, dark brown curls cascading down her back. "_Everywhere. _For just a minute there's…peace, and I can think…and then, they're dead and you're gone and it starts all over."

Though she had kept an eye on him since he turned and noted the preference in his victims with feminine pride, she'd never ventured close enough to bear witness to the confusion and desperation she now saw in his eyes. While her blood had transformed him, there was no bond between them, no reason Stefan should still be compelled to find her after nearly one hundred and fifty years. Surprise rendered Katherine speechless - a feat she had believed impossible after five centuries - and her hand slipped to his chest as she released his neck. Subconsciously, she took a step back, her heels grinding chunks of stone to dust.

With an animalistic roar, Stefan used the grip he had on her hair and whipped her around, pressing her bodily to the wall. Her cheek scraped stone, as he leaned into her fully and held one of her arms behind her back. Straining to see him out of the corner of her eye, she asked warily. "Stefan, what are you doing?"

"Klaus wants you," he replied after a long silent moment.

"What? Why?" Katherine demanded, horrified, her flight response ratcheting automatically into high gear. Kicking her foot out, she was rewarded with a grunt of pain from her captor and used the moment to break free. _It was a trick, _she thought frantically. Stefan and Klaus had devised a plan meant to lure her back under the Original's compulsive sway. Anxiously, her gaze darted toward the doorway and the clear night sky. Freedom was mere feet away.

"Wait, Katherine, stop," before she could run, Stefan braced his arms on either side of her body - not a trap, exactly, but the desperation in his tone was enough to hold her in place.

"Klaus can't find me, Stefan," she caught herself begging and cringed. Speaking more calmly, she gripped the lapels of his jacket. "Please, you have to let me go."

"But I need you," he admitted, more confident now as he touched her, framing her face almost reverently. After more than a century of waiting to feel _that _touch again, Katherine nearly came undone. "I don't know why, but I just…I _feel_ it."

"Stefan, I can't-," she still protested, memories of the days she spent in Alaric's apartment under Klaus's compulsion vivid in her mind.

"Please, just…help me figure this out," he begged, his thumbs stroking her cheeks in an intimate gesture that she fought to ignore.

"_Enjoy eternity alone, Katherine."_

Damon's parting shot echoed in her head, warring with her deeply seated instincts of self-preservation. Whatever plans she'd had prior to leaving her hotel suite were forgotten now in the face of confusion and doubt. Staying was suicide, but to leave meant turning her back on Stefan when he needed her.

And it had been such a very long time since _Stefan_ needed her.

Taking a deep breath, she buried the indecision and fear, the _humanity, _and covered Stefan's hands with her own. In a cool voice that betrayed nothing, she sealed her fate. "Alright. I'll stay."

* * *

><p>For once, Elena wanted to do exactly what Damon asked without question. She just didn't know if she could. Coolly, she surveyed the bar, trying not to shrink into Damon's side under the heavy stares of a dozen pairs of inhuman eyes. <em>I'm Katherine now, <em>she reminded herself, and Katherine would never show weakness in the presence of a bunch of backwoods hicks - vampire or not.

She also wouldn't be clinging to Damon for dear life.

Very deliberately, Elena extricated herself from the protective circle of Damon's arms and sauntered casually across the rough wooden floorboards to the bar. The effort to move like Katherine, to put an extra sway in her hips and a confident, fluid grace in the way she claimed a spot at the wooden counter, momentarily distracted her from the microscopic appraisal she was currently under.

With a critical eye, she scanned the worn bar and the rickety stools. Dust and dirt in the air made the scant light hazy. Carefully, she schooled her features into a mask of boredom and faced the room, leaning back on her elbows against the bar. "My, my, Damon. _Classy_."

"Don't be such a snob, Katherine," Damon replied, his expression neutral as he joined her.

A couple at the far end of the bar and the bartender seemed to be the only people in the place who hadn't noted the newcomers' arrival. Now, as Damon and Elena each took a seat, the bartender finally turned to acknowledge his latest customers. Elena watched as recognition dawned on the man's face and didn't have to fake her amusement at his reaction.

"I see your reputation precedes you," she murmured, turning slightly and placing a booted foot on the top rung of his barstool. The move was instinctual, possessive and felt very much like something Katherine would do. The fact that it brought her knee into contact with his thigh, thereby connecting them and making her feel safer, was just an added bonus.

"Oh, yeah. Gregory and I go way back," Damon smiled smugly, his gaze dropping briefly to her knee, where her body touched his. Then he pitched his voice louder, allowing it to carry over the noise of the bar. "Don't we, Greg?"

"Damon Salvatore. It's been awhile," Gregory the Bartender walked slowly toward them with an expression that landed somewhere between resignation and dread. Elena assumed the man was a vampire. He looked older than Damon and had about him a certain ageless quality she sometimes saw in both Salvatore brothers. Gregory stopped directly in front of them, bracing his arms on the edge of the gouged and chipped wood. He gave Damon a cursory glance and then proceeded to take his time studying Elena. Lifting her chin, she met his gaze, struggling to keep calm, to be Katherine.

Apparently, she passed the bartender's test, as Gregory turned his attention back to Damon and asked grudgingly. "What can I get for you?"

"Nothing," Damon shook his head. "I just need to ask you some ques-."

"Whiskey," Elena interjected, giving Gregory her most seductive smile. "Two shots. And bring the bottle."

Eager, it seemed, to put some distance between himself and Damon, Gregory nodded and went to retrieve the requested refreshments. Damon turned to Elena, brow furrowed in confusion. "'Bring the bottle?' What are you doing?"

"Come on, Damon, it's been a long day," Elena purred, covering his hand on the bar with her own and leaning in to whisper directly in his ear. "And if I'm going to pull this off, I need a little help."

Damon regarded her coolly and finally nodded, turning his hand to lace their fingers together and squeeze. "Whatever you say, Katherine."

Elena stared at their joined hands, forgetting for just a second everything they were up against, and realized just how much she had missed being Damon's friend. The last time circumstance had forced them to work together for Stefan's sake, they really _had _made a good team. A spark of hope flickered in Elena's heart. Despite the immediate danger surrounding them and the threats they had yet to face, in that moment she believed they could win. They could get Stefan back.

If she managed to survive her own plan.

Gregory returned with two shots glasses and a half full bottle of Wild Turkey. Hastily, he poured the shots and returned to the opposite end of the bar before Damon could speak. Making a face, he picked up the bottle and raised a brow. "Really? You want to drink this?"

"Now who's the snob?" Elena taunted, taking a shot and pushing the other closer to him. By way of a toast, she raised her glass. "When in Rome."

"I hate rednecks," Damon muttered with a sigh. Elena grinned, downing the fiery liquid in a single gulp. Damon did likewise, feeling the familiar warm burn of the whiskey all the way down his throat. More interested in Elena's reaction, however, Damon couldn't hold back a smile at the way her eyes watered as the liquor momentarily robbed her of speech. She maintained the façade admirably, gesturing for him to pour another. Damon obliged and immediately, Elena consumed that shot as well.

"Careful," he cautioned under his breath, pouring them both another shot. "If I have to carry you out of here, all your pretending amounts to nothing."

Elena shot him a haughty glare and defiantly threw back her third shot in as many minutes. Damon rolled his eyes and paused, listening for her heartbeat. It was there, faint and much slower, beneath the din of the bar. Casually, he dropped his hand to her thigh. The pulse was stronger no as he touched her, and no amount of eyeliner, lipstick or attitude could hide how very much alive Elena Gilbert was.

"So, how do you know Gregory?" Elena asked, refilling her shot glass, but letting it sit in front of her untouched. She hadn't objected to the way he was touching her, so Damon kept his hand where it was as he eyed the bartender, still conspicuously as far from them as possible.

"I ran into him and his cousin in the 20s, right after they'd both been turned," Damon offered.

"Aw, are we visiting old friends?" she mused with just the right amount of mockery to make the question insulting.

"Nope," Damon shook his head. "Vampires don't have friends. We have acquaintances we use when necessary."

Elena rolled her eyes. "Fine, so they're acquaintances."

"Unfortunately. I'll tell you about it later," he promised, glaring in Gregory's general direction for a moment before taking another shot. From the corner of his eye, he saw movement on Elena's far side. Reacting on pure instinct, Damon snaked an arm around her waist and hauled her onto his lap, catching the offending vampire's wrist with his other hand mere centimeters from the spot Elena's bare shoulder had been.

Using all his strength, Damon crushed the tiny bones in the vampire's wrist. As soon as he let go, the wound would heal, but in the meantime it would hurt like hell. A sadistic pleasure rose up in Damon watching the other vampire squirm. "No. Touching."

"Damon," Elena chided gently. Although her heart was racing beneath her ribcage, undoing the Wild Turkey's work, outwardly, she seemed at ease. Gracefully, she crossed her legs and shifted in his lap, bringing her left arm around his shoulders. Delicate fingers stroking the side of his face nearly broke Damon's concentration entirely. Almost apologetically, but lacking even an ounce of sincerity, she addressed the poor vampire still writhing in his grasp. "He doesn't like to share."

"Hey man, relax," the other vampire gasped, his tall, lanky frame nearly doubled over in pain. "I didn't know she was yours."

Damon barely heard the plea. Anger borne of self-recrimination overwhelmed his brain, pushing aside all thoughts but protecting Elena and bringing an end to this stupid farce. They could find Stefan some other way that didn't involve her parading around as Katherine in a room full of assholes who thought they could just _touch _her at will.

"Oh, I'm not his," Elena insisted, completely unperturbed by the scene in front of her. Damon spared her a glance and had to remind himself that she was playing a role, that the way she was appraising the other vampire with blatant sexual curiosity was strictly for show. His control, however, snapped when she smiled and said, "I play well with others."

With a scowl, Damon doubled the pressure and heard the satisfying snap as the major bones in the vampire's wrist broke. A howl of pain caught the attention of the entire bar and Elena tensed in his arms as once again all eyes were on them.

"Damon," she warned, the first signs of stress bleeding through her breezy tone.

The fear in Elena's voice shattered something else within Damon, a barrier he'd erected even before Stefan had disappeared, allowing his own pain and frustration to seep out and saturate his entire being with rage. Elena was with him now, sitting in his freaking lap, physically closer than ever and it was all an act, all for _Stefan_. Even though the idiot had abandoned her, she was _still_ in love with him, still willing to risk her lifeto get him back. Damon suddenly hated his brother. Fervently, he wished it were _Stefan_ he tortured, rather than the poor vampire in his grasp whose only crime was extreme stupidity. Blood addiction be damned, choosing _anything _over Elena was inexcusable.

Elena said his name again and gripped his shoulder even more tightly, but he ignored her. The vampire fell to his knees and dispassionately, Damon understood that he must be very young and close to his human memories not to realize that there were a dozen different ways he could break free.

"Damon," Elena whispered insistently, her lips brushing his ear. Two more vamps rose wearily from their table at the back of the room and slowly made their way toward the bar. Her Katherine façade was crumbling by the second. On some level, Damon registered all of these details, but overwhelming rage and frustration kept him from acting on them.

"Dammit," she cursed, her voice a buzz on the periphery of his consciousness. Glancing over Damon's shoulder at the approaching vampires, Elena took his face in her hands and kissed him.

The unexpected sensation of her soft, warm lips against his surprised Damon enough that he loosened his grip and the vamp was able to break free. Not that he noticed. The vivid memory of their last kiss – seared onto his brain despite his best efforts – paled in comparison to this. This time, Elena tasted him fully, tilting his chin for better access to his mouth. His hand fell to her waist, fingers tightening around her hip as he fought the urge not to kiss her back. _This is an act_. Damon struggled to hold on to the sobering detail that she was only kissing him to keep him from killing someone.

Just as his control was ready to snap again, Elena pulled away. Slowly, Damon opened his eyes. Still holding his face in her hands, she gazed at him through the thick, dark fringe of her heavily made up lashes. For just a moment, confusion and surprise dominated her features, the Katherine mask completely shattered. Then she blinked, sliding back into her role with an ease that made him uncomfortable. Pleased with herself, Elena smiled, trailing her fingers down his chest to play with the buttons of his shirt.

"You're so _hot_ when you're jealous," she whispered loudly, for show. Damon's gaze shifted to the vampire he'd wanted to kill only moments earlier, who had taken full advantage of his momentary distraction. Regaining control and straightening, the vampire shook dirty blond hair off his sweaty forehead, and winced as he rotated his mangled wrist, shifting bones back into place so they could heal properly. The other vampires were still trying to help their friend. Somehow, the kiss had only lasted seconds. Elena shifted to slide off Damon's lap, but he held her in place, refusing to let her go until the vamps had returned to the opposite end of the bar.

"Careful, Katherine," he warned.

"Don't worry, Damon," she assured him, sparing her would be suitor a dismissive glance. "I only want to play with you."

The two vampires who'd reluctantly come to their friend's rescue froze, fixing Damon and Elena with wide, fearful gazes. The bravest of the bunch stammered. "J-just ignore him. He's-we're sorry. He's young, he doesn't know-."

"Get the hell out of here," Damon ordered, still yearning for blood and wishing he could provoke a fight without putting Elena at risk. "And I'll let you all live."

The vampires nodded their heads almost comically and hauled the injured vampire out of the bar. "God, Mike, you're such a fucking idiot. Don't you know Damon Salvatore when you see him?"

"And that's Katherine Pierce, man," the other vampire hissed. "She would have chewed you up and spit you out just for fun. I can't believe you tried to hit on her."

Mike the Vampire's response was lost as the trio carried him up the stairs and disappeared into the night. Elena watched them go before turning back to Damon with a bemused expression on her perfect features. Gracefully, she slid off his lap. "Well, I guess my reputation precedes me, too."

"Apparently," Damon shook his head and slammed down the shot he'd poured what felt like hours ago. Elena promptly filled both glasses again and immediately consumed her fourth of the night. He watched her closely, searching for signs that she'd had too much, but she didn't so much as wobble as she reclaimed her seat on the rickety barstool. With disgust, Damon noted his arms already felt empty without her. _God, how pathetic._

"Here," Gregory suddenly reappeared, setting two new shot glasses on the bar. Uncorking an old fashioned green bottle, he poured a thick, red liquid into both of them. Even before the warm, rich metallic scent hit his nose, Damon knew what it was. His mouth watered and he glanced at Elena. She watched the bartender with thinly veiled contempt, but her hands had curled into fists and she was struggling to control her breathing. Clearly, she knew blood when she saw it.

Gregory returned the stopper to the bottle and placed it on a shelf below the bar. Bracing his hands on the edge, he spoke in a low voice, making no effort to mask his hostility. "That's top of the line and it's on the house if you tell me what you want and get the hell out of here."

"Now, Greg, is that any way to speak to an old friend," Damon chided, picking up the shot glass and making a show of studying the consistency of the blood. "It's been so long."

"I'd rather it were longer."

"Fine," Damon took the shot, the blood an instant jolt to his system. Not quite a drug, but more than simple sustenance, it coated his throat on the way down, soothing a dull thirst that he'd just started to notice. "I'm looking for Landis."

"Haven't seen him."

"_Beep,_ wrong answer," Damon leaned forward, crossing his arms on the bar. "See, I _know _you know where he is because you like to keep an eye on him. That's what family does."

"Right, like you and Stefan have always been so close," Gregory challenged with a sneer. Damon tensed, sparing Elena another glance. She was watching the exchange carefully, idly dragging a fingertip up and down the outside of the shot glass full of blood.

"I always knew where he was," Damon countered. "Just in case I needed to sell him out to the highest bidder."

"Oh yeah?" Gregory took a step back. "Well, you haven't offered anything. Maybe if you make it worth my while, I'll…have a sudden epiphany."

"I'll tell you what," Damon offered, his patience at an end. He'd suffered through Elena taking on the guise of a woman he hated, dealt with a newbie vampire with delusions of grandeur and now Gregory thought he could wheel and deal him. This charade had long since worn out its welcome. "Either you tell me where I can find Landis…or I walk out of here, lock the doors and light a match."

The threat of fire caught the attention of Gregory and the half dozen patrons within earshot. Damon glanced around and shrugged. "With all the alcohol soaked into this place I doubt it would take more than a few seconds for it to go up in flames."

Gregory glowered at Damon, raw hatred coming off of him in waves. Unperturbed, Damon poured himself another shot and drank it slowly, savoring the burn. He waited, knowing the other man would cave long before he did. As long as Elena played her part and made sure everybody thought she was Katherine, the odds were on his side.

Grabbing a tattered, beer soaked coaster from a stack on top of the ice chest, Gregory took a pen from the register and scribbled something on the back. With deliberate steps, he returned to stand directly in front of Damon, tapping the coaster on his fingers.

"Well?" Damon held out his hand expectantly and stood.

Gregory eyed him for a moment, then turned his attention to Elena. The shot glass of blood still waited, untouched, in front of her. He raised a brow. "What? Katherine Pierce is too good to drink here?"

Elena had been studying her nails, pretending not to listen or care about the exchange between Damon and the bartender. Now, she started, looked up and regarded the other vampire coolly. Damon quickly scanned the bar, noting the stares of all the patrons. They were all waiting, watching to see how the notorious Katherine Pierce would respond to such a brazen challenge. Scowling, he wished yet again he'd never agreed to this stupid act.

"You always were stupid hick, Greg," Damon shook his head.

"Damon, I hope your friend's information is better than his manners," Elena mused, turning to face him. Her features remained neutral, but there was desperation in her eyes. She was begging him for an out, but he didn't see one. Raising a brow, she clung steadfastly to the act. "I'd hate to have to come back."

In the dim light, Gregory paled, realizing his mistake. "I-I didn't mean any disrespect. I'm sorry."

Damon ignored the man, made a vow to Elena. "I know. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

Elena nodded, then eyed the bartender coolly for a moment before picking up the shot glass. Holding it aloft as a silent toast, she tilted her head back and downed the blood in a single gulp. Damon closed his eyes briefly, and opened them to find her staring back at him as she swallowed. The sound of the glass hitting the bar as she slammed it down echoed through the suddenly silent space. Elena spared Gregory a final withering look, then walked toward Damon. She trailed her fingers over his shoulder and across his chest, curling her hand into a fist around the buttons.

"You certainly will," she murmured, holding his gaze for a long, pointed moment. Where the bar saw a lover's quarrel, Damon saw a tired, scared girl who just wanted to get the hell out of there. Fighting the urge to wrap his arms around her, he watched her saunter on, letting her fingers trail across his chest and off his other shoulder as she made her way toward the stairs and her freedom.

Damon turned back to Gregory, holding out his hand expectantly. "Hand it over."

"I…don't know-."

Damon interrupted, leaning on the bar and gesturing toward Elena. "The only reason she hasn't ripped your heart out is because I told her you could help us. I just want to talk to him."

With a sigh, Gregory handed over the coaster. Damon glanced at the information, memorizing it even as he tucked the warped coaster into his jacket pocket. He backed toward the entrance where Elena waited. "Nice to see you again, Greg. Let's do it again next millennium, huh?"

The bartender scoffed. "I doubt you'll make it that long."

Elena was waiting at the foot of the stairs and Damon caught up with her there, slipping an arm around her waist as if he did it every day. She leaned into his side automatically and for once, he simply accepted it instead of trying to decipher if it was part of the game. Most of the patrons had returned to their drinks, but a few - and Gregory - still stared at the departing couple. Damon offered him a rakish grin and shrugged. "You're probably right."

* * *

><p><em>AN: Thanks so much for reading and responding. Your comments are amazing and so inspiring. Keep it up, it does wonders for my pace. LOL<em>


	7. Different Destinations

_AN: For the record, this chapter is NOT over 5,000 words. It's like...4700. I swear, the lines I use to break up sections count for, like...100 words each. I'm wordy as hell, but I'm not THAT wordy...yet. Anyway, thank you SO much for your amazing response to Chapter Six. I had a lot of fun writing Elena and Katherine and I'm so glad you enjoyed reading it. Can't wait to hear your thoughts on Chapter 7 and the aftermath of The Crossroads. ;p_

Chapter Seven – Different Destinations

The tree-lined freeway stretched endlessly into darkness, twisting and turning through the Pennsylvanian countryside. Stifling a yawn, Tyler steered the jeep with one hand while Caroline sat quietly in the passenger seat, gazing at the passing scenery. They had been driving all day and while she seemed as alert as ever, he needed a break from the monotony.

A sign loomed ahead, advertising a state campground before it quickly disappeared as the jeep sped past. Making an executive decision, Tyler turned off the road into the campsite.

Caroline turned to him, brows raised in question. "Where are we?"

"I don't know," he shrugged, maneuvering the jeep over the uneven gravel parking lot. "I just needed a break for a minute."

"I could drive for awhile," Caroline offered with a bright smile. Tyler chuckled as he pulled on the emergency brake and eased his foot off the clutch.

"Do you know how to drive a stick?" he asked, climbing from the car into the cool night air.

"Well, no," Caroline admitted, following his lead and making him jump as she blurred around the front of the car to his side. "But I bet you could teach me."

"If we make it back alive, you've got yourself a deal," he nodded and looked around, waiting for his eyes to adjust. The campground was primitive, with sites marked only by rusted grills filled with the ash of a thousand fires. Caroline paced a few feet ahead, stretching her arms toward the sky and gazing up at the thick canopy of stars. With her blond hair practically glowing in the moonlight and her vampiric features hidden behind a bright smile, Tyler suddenly struggled to reconcile her supernatural nature with the incredibly human looking seventeen-year-old standing before him. Abruptly, he blurted out a question he'd wanted to ask since the day he'd learned Caroline wasn't the only vampire in Mystic Falls. "How were you turned?"

Caroline's smile twisted into a frown as she dropped her arms to her sides and for a second, Tyler thought she wouldn't answer. Taking a few steps forward, boots crunching in the gravel, she surprised him. "It was after the car accident on Founder's Day. The doctors didn't think I was going to make it, so Bonnie convinced Damon to give me his blood so I could heal."

"Damon turned you?" Tyler asked, stunned.

"No," Caroline shook her head, offering him a small smile. "I don't think turning me into a vampire had even crossed Damon's mind. Katherine…killed me while his blood was still in my system. If she hadn't needed me to be a pawn in her game, I'd still be the shallow, ditzy Miss Mystic Falls, not a care in the world other than who would be my date for the next town function."

"You're not shallow," Tyler shot back, immediately jumping to her defense.

"Just ditzy, huh?" she teased.

"Shut up," he shook his head, chuckling. Caroline was smiling absently, still lost in memories of what must have been the worst time of her life. He wondered if anyone had been there for her, like she'd been for him. "What-what happened?"

"I woke up alone, in the hospital," she replied, looking away at the trees. I had no idea what was going on, I just…had this _thirst_. I…fed on the nurse that was taking care of me and I really don't know how I didn't drain her dry. It was weird. I guessed what I was, what I had to do to survive, but I didn't want to hurt my friends or my mom. Stefan…saved me. He helped me learn control, so I could be around the people I cared about without killing them."

"So, that's why you're doing this," he guessed. Glancing at him, Caroline frowned and he continued. "Helping find Stefan, I mean."

"I owe him…my life," she spread her arms wide. "But even if I didn't, I'd still be here. He's my friend. Elena's my best friend. We look out for each other."

"Must be nice," Tyler said, trying not to sound bitter and failing.

"They could be your friends, too, you know," Caroline offered. A few more steps brought her right in front of him and she took his hand, looking him in the eye. "I mean, that's why you left, right? To find a place where you belonged. You can belong to us."

"I don't think Damon would agree with you," he shook his head ruefully.

"Oh, who cares what Damon thinks," Caroline scoffed. "You almost killed him – so what? He survived, didn't he? I mean, he killed Jeremy and we all forgave him."

Tyler gaped at her. "He…wait, _what?" _

His astonished query went unanswered as Caroline suddenly closed the distance between them and clamped a hand over his mouth. "Someone's coming," she whispered, lips brushing the shell of his ear. She cocked her head in the direction of the freeway some fifty yards away, listening.

Eyes wide, Tyler held his breath, straining to hear what she did. This far from the full moon his abilities were stunted, but some aspects of the animal within lingered near the surface. Using those heightened senses, he searched for what had alerted Caroline. The smell assaulted him first, a scent he'd learned to naturally attribute to vampires – his natural enemy. Blood and something else, something…cold. He raised his brows in question.

Caroline bit her lip, thinking for a moment, then mouthed for him to stay put as she blurred away deeper into the campground. Tyler silently gaped after her, biting back a string of curses. What the hell was he supposed to do? He thought about following her, but running was pointless. The vampires would be on him in seconds. Trusting her was his only option.

Not even a vampire could walk silently across the gravel covered parking area of the campground and the two that appeared mere moments later didn't even try. Leaning against the jeep, Tyler took a deep breath and tried to look at ease, gazing up at the sky.

"Hey, guys. Nice night, huh?" Tyler said, greeting the vampires brightly. Gesturing toward the sky, he added. "The stars are so bright…_out here in the middle of nowhere_."

Just as he'd hoped, his candor momentarily threw the vampires off balance. Glancing at each other the shorter, stockier of the two stepped forward and demanded. "Where's your girlfriend?"

"My who?"

"Come on, don't play dumb, _dog_," he sneered. "We've been following you since you crossed the border."

Tyler shrugged, outwardly calm while his mind was racing. "I don't know what to tell you. It's just…me and the trees."

"We're wasting time. Let's just kill it," the taller one grumbled. "Maybe it will draw that pretty blond out and we can have some fun before we rip her heart out."

"Nah, we need to kill them and get back to guard the warehouse," the stocky one insisted.

The brazen threat to Caroline affected Tyler, making his blood pressure rise and his temper snap. Before he could so much as shift his weight for an attack, however, the tall vampire cried out in surprise and pain as the business end of a tree branch shot out of the center of his chest. The life drained from his face before his knees even hit the ground.

"Having _fun_ yet?" Caroline asked with scorn, stepping over the dry husk of the corpse. The stocky vampire gaped at the tree branch protruding from his dead companion's back – Caroline's accuracy had been deadly. His strength enhanced by anger, Tyler took advantage of the vampire's momentary distraction and grabbed his arm, throwing him bodily into the jeep. The vehicle rocked on its axles while the vampire collapsed to his knees. In the blink of an eye, Caroline was upon him, another crude stake raised to strike.

"Why were you following us?" she asked, fangs descending dangerously. Tyler crouched beside her, pinning the vampire's shoulders to the wheel. Whether the vampire was strong enough to fight them both off, he didn't try.

"K-Klaus's orders," the vampire stammered, eyeing the wooden weapon with trepidation. "We were supposed to kill you if you came into Pennsylvania."

"Why?" Tyler demanded.

"I can't-."

"What? End up like your friend?" Caroline wiggled the stake, gesturing pointedly at the rapidly decaying vampire lying next to her on the gravel. "Sure, you can."

The short vampire glanced at his companion and whined. "Klaus will kill me."

"Pretty sure she's a bigger threat right now," Tyler pointed out. Recalling a snippet of the vampires' conversation when they were threatening him, he added. "Maybe if you tell us what's in the warehouse, we'll let you live."

The vampire paled, obviously having forgotten he'd mentioned the place only minutes earlier. Closing his eyes for a moment, he shook his head. "No, forget it. You might as well kill me. I'm a dead man anyway."

Caroline narrowed her eyes, studying him for a moment, and then shrugged. "Okay."

Once again, the jeep rocked as the force of Caroline's thrust traveled through the impaled vampire. Tyler winced, half afraid she'd drive the thing straight through his chest cavity and into the tire. The last thing he wanted to do right then was change a flat.

Tyler rose and exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. As Caroline stood he threw an exhilarated grin her way. "Well, that was awe-."

"Tyler, I'm so sorry," she interrupted, eyes glistening with tears. She stared up at the night sky, self-loathing obvious in the slump of her shoulders. "I shouldn't have left you like that, but I…I panicked and I…god, I almost got you killed!"

"Hey, it's okay," Tyler insisted, taking her cool hand in his and coaxing her to look him in the eye. "I'm fine. Really, they didn't even touch me. Just…maybe let me in on the plan next time, alright?"

Her features human again save for the tears in her eyes, Caroline finally nodded, biting her lip and even laughing a little as she pulled him into a hug. "I promise."

* * *

><p>Knowing they were still being watched, Damon reined in his protective instincts and barely touched Elena as they made their way back to the Camaro. With just a few feet left to go, he could tell the whiskey was beginning to take effect as she stumbled on the uneven ground. Catching her before she fell on her face, Damon half dragged, half carried her the rest of the way, depositing her into the passenger seat.<p>

In an instant, he was opening the driver's side door, sliding into the seat and shoving the key into the ignition. His movements were so fast and his desire to get Elena the hell away from The Crossroads was so strong, he didn't realize she was doubled over in the seat, holding her head in her hands until he'd put a mile between them and the bar.

"You okay?" he asked tersely, his eyes straying between the road and Elena's bowed head.

She nodded, sitting back slowly with a heavy sigh. Brushing wispy strands of hair out of her eyes, she let her head fall against the headrest. Turning slightly, she grinned at him. "How'd I do?"

The flippant remark on the tip of Damon's tongue died on his lips the second he looked at her. Despite her words slurring slightly and the glassy sheen in her alcohol dulled eyes, he still saw Katherine. Gripping the steering wheel tightly, he reigned in his instinctive snarl and took a breath. Clenching his jaw, he replied. "Fine."

"I'd say I did better than fine," Elena snorted, stretching her legs out and gazing through the windshield. "Those vampires totally bought it."

"You're lucky Gregory spilled when he did," Damon muttered, resolutely keeping his eyes on the road. "Ten more minutes and you'd have fallen on your face."

"Oh, whatever," Elena waved a hand breezily through the air, the alcohol affecting her more with each passing mile. "Where are we going now?"

"To find a hotel so you can sober up."

"I thought we had to find Lance…Larry, no…Landslide."

"Landis," Damon supplied, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, Landis!" she concurred triumphantly. "I thought the whole point was to meet up with him."

Damon focused on the eastern horizon where the faintest line of blue was forming, even though the sky overhead was still pitch black. "The sun will be up soon, and-."

"And I'll bet Landis doesn't have a fancy little ring like yours," Elena interrupted, climbing to her knees and reaching across Damon's body to grab his left hand.

"What the…Trying to drive here," he objected, allowing her to take his hand and look while trying hard not to be distracted by her scent as it wrapped around him.

"Oh, relax, Damon," she said dismissively, gently but firmly slipping the ring off his middle finger.

"Lose that, and I'll kill you," he threatened calmly, his gaze automatically drifting toward the lightening eastern horizon. Elena ignored him, returning to her seat and twisting to lean against his shoulder. Using the glow of the dashboard, she studied the ring.

"'D' for…dumbass?" she teased, tracing the tiny initial in the silver filigree. Grinning, she craned her neck and peered at him through her lashes. "Delinquent?"

"Wow. You're a comic genius," Damon deadpanned, sneaking another look and once again being aggravated by the heavy makeup that masked Elena's features.

"Aw, so touchy," she pouted, rising on her knees again and reaching for his hand. For a second, Damon resisted, keeping his fingers firmly wrapped around the wheel and earning him a petulant frown from Elena. "Come on, I don't want you to burn up in the sun."

"Then why'd you take it off in the first place?" he muttered, knowing full well he could have easily stopped her. With an exaggerated sigh, Damon held his left hand out, trying to keep his eyes on the road as her delicate fingers danced across his skin. At the bar, Elena's touch had been part of the plan, making it easy to ignore. Now, with her inhibitions shot to hell by the whiskey and no threat of death to distract him, every nerve in Damon's body seemed acutely attuned to it.

His gaze strayed, drifting toward their joined hands and watching as she slipped the ring back on his finger. Instead of immediately letting go, Elena cradled his hand in both of hers, running her thumb over the embellished silver. Slowly, under their own volition, his eyes wandered up her bare arms to the cascading waterfall of dark brown hair that he constantly longed to sink his fingers into, proving just how flimsy his protective walls actually were.

Then his eyes drifted over her face and the moment was gone.

Elena's resemblance to Katherine hit him like a fist to the gut, the moment morphing to memory and the day Katherine gave him the spelled ring. She'd put it on his finger in much the same way, gazing up at him with that teasing, coquettish smile he'd once been willing to kill for - to die for. Clenching his jaw, he spoke through gritted teeth. "You need to wash that crap off your face."

"What? You mean the makeup?" Elena frowned in confusion and gestured to her face, still clinging to him with her other hand. "Is that why you didn't kiss me back?"

"Why I didn't... What?" Damon demanded, stunned. Elena _wanted _him to kiss her back? _How had he missed the memo on that development? _

Before the already strange conversation could venture any further into insanity, the passenger side of the Camaro lurched to the side as the wheels went off the paved road and into loose gravel. Automatically, Damon wrenched the steering wheel in the opposite direction, the momentum knocking Elena off her precarious perch on her knees and throwing her into the passenger door.

"Are you okay?" Damon asked as soon as the car was sailing smoothly down the deserted county road again. Elena didn't answer and he hazarded a brief glance her way, noting with unease that she was once again doubled over in her seat. "_Elena_. Are you okay?"

Elena moaned. "What the hell was that?"

"_That _was someone distracting me."

"Well, someone should have kept his eyes on the road," she said, pushing her long hair out of her face and holding her forehead in her hand. "I think I'm gonna be sick."

Damon's eyes widened, the odd moment over the ring completely broken. "Uh, not in my car you're not."

"Should have thought of that before you drove into the ditch," she replied. Even in the dim light, her face was ashen, and all traces of the playful, half wasted girl who'd wondered why he hadn't returned a kiss had vanished.

"Hey, I didn't make you drink those five shots," Damon retorted, pushing the accelerator to the ground in his haste to return to some semblance of civilization. He might be in love with her, willing to die for her, but there was no way in hell he was going to let her throw up in his car.

"It was four," Elena argued, leaning back against the passenger seat.

"Whatever. It was obviously one too many."

The county road met up with a slightly less desolate highway and, making a quick decision, Damon turned left, backtracking to the last town they passed. As lights approached in the near distance, he realized it wasn't so much a town as a glorified gas station with a twenty-four hour diner and a motel. Mercifully, the vacancy sign was glowing brightly in the ever lightening pre-dawn. The Camaro kicked up loose gravel as Damon careened into the lot.

The motel was one level, curving in an 'L' shape with the office taking up one corner. Pulling into a parking spot a few doors down, he pulled the keys from the ignition. Sparing Elena the briefest of glances, he muttered. "I'll be right back."

The main office was small and sparsely furnished, although the creepy Norman Bates wannabe on desk duty had Damon checking the corners for taxidermied wild life. As a precaution, he signed in under Elena's name, figuring it was worth a shot even though he'd never tested the 'invite only' rule at a motel. By the time he got back to the car, Elena had climbed out with her backpack and was leaning against it, her head tilted back towards the sky.

"Don't worry, your car is safe," she assured him as he tossed her the room key and moved to the trunk to get their bags.

"You're lucky," he said, fighting a grin as she glared at him and made a show of grabbing the handle of her wheeled suitcase as soon as he placed it by her feet. He could almost hear the disgruntled _hmph _as she turned on her heel and made her way to the sidewalk that ran by the rooms.

"It's number six," he called out when she paused in front of the fifth door.

"I can read," she replied, without looking over her shoulder and continuing on. He watched to make sure she was safely inside before grabbing his own bags and slamming the trunk a vampire, sleeping was more habit than necessity and if need be, he could go without it for days. Less than twenty-four hours with Elena, however, and Damon was as tired as she looked.

Gravel crunched under his boots as he made his way toward their room. Realizing he hadn't checked his phone in hours, he pulled it from his jacket pocket and noticed he'd missed a call. Hitting a button, Caroline's perpetually chipper voice came across the line.

"Damon, oh my god, you will not believe what happened to Tyler and me," the message began. Shaking his head and stopping in front of the motel room door, Damon closed his eyes and sighed. He could picture the blonde's animated features with annoying clarity. "A couple of Klaus's vamps jumped us at this campground thing. Don't worry, though, we totally took care of them. It was kind of awesome, actually. But listen, they let some things slip and I think that Klaus and Stefan probably aren't in Pennsylvania, but there might be something important that is. So…call me when you get this, okay? Okay, talk to you later. Bye!"

For all of two seconds, Damon considered returning the call, but Caroline had said she and Tyler were fine, so whatever it was could wait. Elena was about two seconds away from passing out and he was in no mood to deal with any bad news, so returning the cell to his pocket, he opened the door.

The light in the bathroom was on and one of the beds was already turned down, Elena's closed, but unzipped bag resting at the foot. Damon tossed his duffle bag on the floor and flipped the flimsy excuses for locks into place, wishing for a moment that Bonnie was there to spell the place.

He was stripping off his jacket when Elena emerged from the bathroom and his movements slowed as he took in her freshly washed face, pulled back hair and the light blue tank top with the matching pajama pants that she wore. To anybody else the difference would have been subtle, but to Damon, it was everything. The tension in his body eased and his shoulders relaxed. Katherine was gone and she was Elena again.

"I think you were right," she said, her words slurred by fatigue as well as alcohol. Crawling onto the bed, she buried her face into the pillow.

"Of course I'm right," he smirked. "About what?"

"It was five shots, not four," she replied, curling onto her side and staring at him with a baleful expression. Damon chuckled softly, crossing to the foot of her bed and moving her suitcase to the floor. He hesitated for a moment, glancing at her before grabbing the covers and drawing them up around her shoulders. Fading fast, Elena's thanks was soft and indistinct. Damon lingered next to her bed, still clutching the sheets, as the reality of their situation hit him at once. This wasn't just a quick trip to Georgia – all car-ride with a few pit stops and ripped out hearts for variety before returning to Mystic Falls. Inevitably there would be more nights like this, more shared hotel rooms and unexpected intimacy. Spending time with Elena was both a gift and a curse and until they found Stefan, he would have no escape.

Brushing a strand of hair off her face, Damon gave into the urge to touch her, brushing a strand of hair off her face. Elena stirred and he froze, but he didn't pull his hand away.

"Damon?" she murmured without opening her eyes, seemingly oblivious to his caress. "Did I really drink blood tonight?"

Smiling, he stroked her cheek again and nodded. "Yup. You did."

"Ew," she grumbled, pushing out her bottom lip in an adorable pout that Damon itched to touch. Swallowing, he closed his hand into a fist instead, taking a step back. _Damn. _This was going to be even harder than he thought. Taking a final look at her as she succumbed to sleep, he switched off the light. The shades were drawn, rendering the room dark as pitch and unable to see her, Damon let out a slow breath.

Sitting down on the opposite bed, Damon kicked off his shoes and took off his shirt. With his heightened eyesight, he examined his ring, his skin burning where she'd touched him earlier.

"Goodnight, Damon," Elena sighed, not quite as asleep as he'd thought.

"Goodnight. Elena," he murmured, hyper aware of her prone form even in the dark. Running a hand through his hair, he sighed. Nope, he was wrong. This wasn't going to be hard.

This was going to be torture.

* * *

><p>The sun was cresting the horizon when Stefan returned Klaus's safe haven. As he traversed the lower, public rooms of the decadently outfitted warehouse, Stefan had to pick his way through an array of unconscious bodies, all bloated and stupefied from too much blood. He could smell it on the air, the rich, coppery scent teasing his senses and jeopardizing the calm he'd found with Katherine. He'd only been away from her for minutes and the cravings were beginning again.<p>

"Welcome home," Klaus greeted at the top of the stairs to the second floor. "Happy hunting?"

"Very," Stefan replied, his mouth watering at the memory of the three girls he'd drained during the night.

"Excellent," Klaus replied, turning back to his private rooms as Stefan followed without invitation. A crystal tumbler full of thick, rich blood was waiting for him on a highly polished mahogany table. Gratefully, he took it and gulped half of it down. The Original raised a brow, watching him with almost paternal pride. "Did you make any progress on our…ultimate goal?"

"What…you mean Katherine?" Stefan asked, tensing, wondering if Klaus somehow knew that he'd run into the woman they both sought. Had he been followed? Stefan dodged the question, by asking one of his own. "What do you want with her anyway?"

"Does it matter?" Klaus grinned and sat behind an ornately carved desk that matched the wet bar. "You want her, I want her. Our goals combine beautifully."

"I'm curious," Stefan shrugged, strolling around the room. Paintings lined the walls - Monet, Degas, Van Gogh - and he doubted they were prints. Glancing over his shoulder, he answered Klaus's grin with a smile of his own. "Indulge me."

Klaus narrowed his eyes, regarding him steadily for a moment before spreading his hands wide. "Why not? We are, after all, partners."

Stefan nodded, outwardly calm as he waited, while inside a deep-seated fear for Katherine was taking root. Klaus took his time gathering his thoughts before speaking. "As the original doppelganger, Katerina's usefulness did not end with her human death. In fact, as a vampire, she has become even more…important."

"How's that?" Stefan asked, his nerves suddenly on edge. Klaus's interest in the doppelgangers legacy was never a good thing. With effort, he stopped himself from draining the glass and getting a refill.

"I was never turned, Stefan. That is what it means to be an Original," Klaus explained. "My father and mother quite literally made me the man I am today, and yet failed to properly prepare me for what it meant to be both werewolf and vampire. As a result of the circumstances at the time, I have some…unfinished business. Katherine plays into that."

"How? Katherine wasn't even alive at the time."

Klaus grinned. "Yes, but the original Petrova was. Katherine is my conduit to her."

"Another ritual?" Stefan guessed.

"You are so much more than you're given credit for, Stefan Salvatore," Klaus nodded. "Yes, another ritual."

"Then why did you let her go in the first place?" he asked, his temper spiking over Klaus's unending obsession with rituals and the Petrova doppelganger. "Why not-."

"I told you, Stefan," Klaus reminded him. "I have nothing but time and you must have rediscovered the thrill of the chase by now. It's half the fun. Now, if you will excuse me, I must see to our travel arrangements."

"Travel? We're leaving Charleston?" Stefan asked, gripping the crystal tumbler tighter in panic as his mind raced. He needed to contact Katherine. Now.

"To Savannah, yes. There's nothing here for us," Klaus paused at the door, turning to Stefan with his brows raised. "Unless you have something you haven't shared with me. About Katherine, perhaps?"

Stefan stared at him, his roiling emotions robbing him of speech. Lying was never his strong suit, and with so much human blood pumping through his system, brutal honesty was his natural inclination. Protecting Katherine, however, won out.

Gulping down the rest of the blood, he shrugged, keeping his features impassive as the lie rolled easily off his tongue. "No. There's nothing. Savannah it is."


	8. Through The Looking Glass

_AN: Hrm...okay. This chapter IS over 5000 words. Bring snacks. ;p Thanks so much for the replies! Can't wait to hear what you think of this one!_

Chapter Eight – Through The Looking Glass

Waking in a silent hotel room, Elena blinked groggily at the thin bands of sunlight filtering through the venetian blinds on the windows. Directly in her line of sight, a matching twin bed stood empty and unmade. Squeezing her eyes shut, she fought through the cobwebs cluttering her mind as her sluggish brain filtered through the details of the previous day and night. Memories returned in snapshots - the long drive with Damon, the bar, pretending to be Katherine…the whiskey…the kiss…the blood…playing with Damon's ring…almost throwing up in his car…

_The kiss_.

Elena gasped, sitting up far too quickly and instantly regretting it. A sharp stab of pain shot through her head and she closed her eyes again as her stomach heaved dangerously. She took a few deep breaths and while the nausea eased, her head continued to pound with a headache that wasn't quite a hangover, but an annoying reminder of her night of enthusiastic drinking.

"Damon?" she called, opening her eyes one at a time when he didn't answer. The empty silence should have been enough to tell her she was alone, even though his bag was on the floor, indicating he couldn't have gone far. Gingerly, she climbed out of bed and made her way to the window.

Peeking through the blinds, she spotted Damon standing by the Camaro just outside their room, holding a cell phone to his ear. He squinted in the bright sun, impatiently listening to the person on the other end as he paced the length of the car. Elena watched him for a few minutes, taking in the typical Damon Salvatore uniform of black boots, black pants and a neutral colored shirt. Today it was white, the long sleeves bunched around his elbows. Her gaze drifted upward, eventually settling on his mouth and instantly, the memories of their kiss became more than mere snapshots.

Bringing a hand to her lips, Elena swore she could still feel him there, still taste the whiskey on his lips and the solid strength of his body pressed against hers. Every minute detail of those few seconds they had been connected were seared into her brain. Even now, the places he'd touched her burned like a brand, her palms still tingled where she had cradled his face.

Taking a step forward and dipping her head for a better view, Elena stared, unable to reign in her thoughts. Questions pushed to the forefront, replacing the sensory observations. What had Damon been thinking? Why had he been so upset with the vampire who'd tried to touch her? Why had she kissed him? Why hadn't he kissed her back?

_Why did I want him to?_

Damon lifted his gaze from his steady contemplation of the cracked pavement, his eyes latching onto hers through the window. Gasping, she pulled her hand away, letting the blinds snap back into place. Eying the door, she moved to open it and join him outside, but stopped when she realized she was still in her pajamas. Automatically, her hand went to her hair, and she wondered what kind of state it was in. Before she could question her own actions, Elena found herself in the tiny bathroom, studying her reflection in the mirror as she brushed her teeth. Her hair was one long, tangled knot and she ran hasty fingers through it before twisting the tap and splashing cold water on her face.

The sudden chill brought her up short, stopping the hasty routine. "Oh my god, Elena! What are you _doing?" _she demanded of her reflection. She was…_primping. _For Damon. She had lived in the same house with him for weeks and now, after one stupid kiss that wasn't even real, she was suddenly concerned if he saw her with bed head. Snatching the towel from the chrome rod bolted to the wall, she dried her face roughly. Bracing her arms on the edge of the sink, she closed her eyes and tried to organize her racing thoughts into some semblance of order.

Okay. Facts. So, Damon was hot - _when he wasn't being a complete ass_. His eyes were a crazy gorgeous blue and she couldn't deny that on the rare occasions when he genuinely smiled, she got a little weak in the knees. _A little. _Just because she saw right through his charm didn't mean he wasn't good at it. She just…knew him. Understood it was all an act. _Except when he meant it._ Groaning in frustration, Elena pushed away from the sink.

_It's okay to love them both. I did. _

"No," Elena muttered aloud, running her hands through her hair. _I love Stefan._ Searching for the longing ache deep within her heart for her missing boyfriend, she pretended not to notice that it felt more like a memory than true emotion. No matter what Katherine said, no matter what ridiculous thoughts her stressed out psyche obsessed over, she would _not _love them both.

The hotel room door opened, alerting her to Damon's return. Purposefully not glancing at her reflection in the mirror, she turned off the light and walked resolutely into the room. Propped up by pillows on his unmade bed, Damon was sipping from a blood bag like it was a juice box. Seeing her, he grinned. "Afternoon, Sunshine." He held out the blood bag mockingly. "Thirsty?"

Ignoring the stomach turning offer, Elena looked at the digital clock by the bed. "Afternoon? You let me sleep all day?"

Damon shrugged. "You're cute when you're asleep." Then he winked. "And quiet. Besides, there was nothing else to do. We have to wait until dark to track down Landis."

Nodding, Elena took a seat on her own bed, one leg curled beneath her. Sometimes she forgot that not all vampires had magic jewelry that let them play in the sun. "Who were you talking to out there?"

"Caroline."

Elena waited expectantly, but he said nothing more. Sighing, she prompted. "And?"

"And…nobody. Just Caroline," Damon replied, glancing toward the ceiling as he frowned. "Well, I'm sure Lockwood was there, but I didn't ask to-. "

"_Damon_," she said, exasperated. "That's not-."

"I know what you meant, Elena," he interrupted evenly. Taking another sip from the blood bag, his gaze slid back to her and held. With a great deal of self-control, she refrained from fidgeting and stared back at him. They regarded each other silently before he said. "Tyler and Caroline ran into some vampires last night. They worked for Klaus."

"Oh, my god, are they okay?" Elena's eyes went wide, forgetting everything else for just a moment.

"Well, if they weren't, I probably wouldn't have been talking to Caroline about it, now would I?" Damon raised a brow pointedly and Elena fought the urge to throw a pillow at him. It was way too early – or late – to keep up with his wit. Sensing her frustration, he rolled his eyes. "Yes, _they're _fine. Klaus's vamps…not so much."

"Well, what happened?" Elena demanded.

"Do you want the details or do you want the Caroline version of events?" Damon asked dryly.

"Just the details," Elena smiled.

"Thank you," Damon replied gratefully, explaining in as few words as possible how Tyler and Caroline had pulled off the road at a rest stop and had been ambushed by two vampires. "They only caught a few things. Just that the vamps were on Klaus's payroll and had been following them since they crossed the border into Pennsylvania. No mention of Stefan, but Caroline seemed pretty positive that they were protecting something."

"Like what?"

"She didn't know, but she'd spent a lot of time contemplating it and shared every single idea with me," Damon said, shaking his head. "They're going to keep looking around and see if they can figure it out."

Elena paled. "They're staying? Shouldn't they go back to Mystic Falls? Something could happen to them."

"Right, because it's safer in Mystic Falls," Damon scoffed, sitting up. The empty blood bag dangled from his fingertips as he braced his elbows on his knees. "They're fine. Between the two of them, taking out the vamps was easy. Even with Lockwood neutered at the moment."

"I just don't want them to get hurt," Elena fretted, bowing her head and playing with the worn but clean edge of the rumpled sheet. "If anything happens to them…"

"It won't be your fault, Elena" Damon insisted firmly. "And it's not up to you anyway. Tyler and Caroline are doing this for Stefan."

Elena bit her lip and sighed. Knowing he was right didn't make it any easier to accept. If anything happened to her friends, her family…Blinking back tears that suddenly blurred her vision, she took a deep breath and changed the subject. "So, tonight…I should be Katherine again, right?"

"No," Damon shook his head, rising abruptly from the bed. Finishing the blood in a few gulps, he tossed the empty bag in the small wastebasket next to the ancient television. Keeping his back to her, he repeated. "No more charades. It's too risky."

"Risky? You said I did fine last night," Elena protested, standing up and moving to the foot of the bed. "That whole bar believed I was Katherine."

"Yeah, well, it's going to take more than some eyeliner and an attitude to fool Landis," Damon promised. Glancing over his shoulder, he added. "And I don't like looking at you and seeing _her." _

"Damon, that's silly," Elena argued, grabbing his shoulder and trying in vain to make him face her. Undaunted, she moved in front of him, slipping into the small space between his rigid frame and the scuffed and scratched chest of drawers. "We look exactly alike."

"No, you don't," Damon shook his head once, narrowing his eyes. Abruptly, he tucked a strand of her long hair behind her ear, letting his thumb graze her cheekbone. Elena held her breath, every nerve ending suddenly attuned to the place he was touching her like it was starved for the sensation. Damon's thumb skirted lower, sweeping over her full lower lip and just barely making contact. "Maybe Katherine does when she's pretending to be you, but…you _are_ different."

"How?" Elena asked, warming immediately to the idea that someone – anyone – could see a physical difference between her and Katherine.

"It's…your eyes," Damon cocked his head, studying her openly now, all other concerns forgotten. "Katherine looks through people. You look at them."

Wide-eyed, Elena said nothing as the thumb on her lip grew bolder. Dipping his head, Damon brought up his other hand, framing her face. Her heart beat loudly in anticipation as she read the intent in his clear blue eyes. Guilt twisted in her stomach, warning her to pull away, that it was unfair to allow him to touch her with such intimacy when she couldn't return his feelings. Still, she didn't turn away.

She couldn't.

Knowing it was stupid and selfish, Elena was desperate to know what it was like to kiss him without agenda. Not because he was drunk and upset or dying or because she was pretending to be someone else, but because he was beautiful and broken and in that moment completely vulnerable. A certainty arose from some deep, unknown place in her mind that if he kissed her now, she'd get an answer to a question that she'd never been brave enough to ask.

The shrill ringing of a cell phone shattered the loaded silence. Closing his eyes, Damon held her for another beat, then let her go and turned away. Losing his touch shocked Elena to the core of her being as she realized what she'd nearly allowed to happen – what she'd _wanted _to happen. The phone continued its plaintive cry and she released the breath she'd been holding, darting furtive glances at the tense set of Damon's shoulders as he stalked across the room to retrieve it.

"What is it, Ric?" he demanded by way of greeting. Elena leaned against the dresser, fingers curling around the edge while her heart beat erratically. Staring at the floor, she listened to Damon's end of the conversation long enough to ascertain that Jeremy and Bonnie were safe before retrieving her bag and retreating into the bathroom. At the threshold, she glanced back, daring to meet Damon's eye for a moment before closing the door. The vulnerability was gone, his crystal blue gaze giving away nothing.

The burst of water from the showerhead was a grounding force, bringing Elena back to reality. Stripping off her pajamas, she stepped into the shower, shivering under the punishingly cold spray. The nausea had returned – this time from guilt. That girl out there wasn't her, couldn't have been her. Allowing Damon to kiss her, _wanting _him to, made her no better than Katherine and she refused to give in and love them both. Nobody would survive that. Not a second time.

* * *

><p>Stefan glanced at the clock for the second time in as many minutes. Only two hours until he could see Katherine again.<p>

For weeks, Stefan had indulged in his every whim to Klaus' endless delight. No kill was begrudged, no game too depraved. Playing the Ripper was exactly the opposite of playing Stefan Salvatore, even-tempered high school junior. Where his former self would have raised eyebrows if he had strayed from the path of the righteous, the Ripper only surprised when he showed mercy. The freedom of those initial days had become just another prison, another code of conduct he was forced to follow. The pressure was leading Stefan to a whole new level of insanity as he now counted down the seconds until sunset.

As the day had crawled by, staying out of Klaus's way had been his top priority. He didn't think the Original suspected the truth about Katherine, but Stefan couldn't trust himself. As a human, his morals prevented him from telling falsehoods and as a vampire his natural inclination to tell the truth was only amplified. Human blood did nothing to help his duplicity. Quite the opposite, in fact. With the warm elixir coursing through his veins he was usually too euphoric to hold back. Truth, lies, none of it made any difference. He'd get his next fix regardless.

Katherine, however, superseded the bloodlust.

At last, the sun set. Eluding Klaus' entourage of compelled servants, Stefan slipped up to the roof. Breathing in the cool night air, he wasted no time, leaping across fifteen feet of open air to the neighboring building. Landing soundlessly, he jogged across the tarpaper and dropped off the ledge, landing in the next alley over. Mindful of potential spies, he stuck to the shadows, making his way through the Charleston streets to the same cemetery he'd met Katherine in the night before. Every human he passed was a temptation that threatened to shatter his fragile sense of free will. The gate was locked, but that mattered little. Without bothering to check for witnesses, he leapt over the high stone wall and landed quietly on the well-tended grass.

Crouching on the ground, Stefan surveyed the cemetery. The crypt he and Katherine had nearly destroyed the night before looked much the same, save for the plywood over the broken entrance. Closing his eyes, he searched for her scent, and was momentarily crippled by bitter disappointment when he didn't find it. Just as he was about to get up and begin the pursuit on foot, he caught a hint of something else. Flowery, sweet, distinctly feminine - not Katherine, but intriguing nonetheless. Rising, the scent grew stronger as he took a few steps forward. Stefan's curiosity and hunger warred with his need to find Katherine. Convincing himself he could potentially kill two birds with one stone, he delved deeper into the tombs.

The search took only minutes. One hundred feet in, near the center of the cemetery, Stefan came upon a crypt with its door hanging askew. Senses piquing to the thrill of the hunt, he cautiously approached the crypt. Five feet away - more than enough distance to make a clean escape in the unlikely event it was necessary - he tasted the air again, this time catching the distinctive hint of jasmine and sandalwood. Katherine's perfume. His entire being sighed with relief knowing she was near.

Boldly, he approached the crypt, opening the door on its solitary hinge. A single blink accustomed his eyes to the blackness within and at first, he saw no one. A whimper sounded from the back corner, muffled and desperate. Discovering the owner of that cry, Stefan narrowed his eyes at a bound and gagged young girl huddled in the far corner. Hope blazed from her wide green eyes as she silently beseeched Stefan for help, even going so far as to hold out her taped hands to him. Fiery red hair hung in ringlets around her pale, tear-stained face. Intrigued but wary, Stefan hovered, unmoving, in the doorway.

"Do you like your present?" a voice purred from behind him. Stefan's body tensed and relaxed at the same time hearing the voice he'd hungered for all day. Like a true creature of the night, Katherine emerged from the shadows, clad in a slinky black dress reminiscent of the one she'd worn in the tomb in Mystic Falls. It hugged every luscious curve as she sauntered over to him.

"My present?" Stefan repeated, more to hear the sound of her voice than for clarification. Wrapping his arm around her as she molded herself to his side, he didn't resist the urge to bury his face in her hair.

"Well, our present, really," Katherine replied, the smile evident in her voice. "Unless you don't want to share. I thought about getting you one that looked like me, but why settle for a cheap imitation when you can have the real thing?"

"I'll share," he promised, curling his hand around her hip, completely intoxicated by her even as the human girl's fear made his mouth water. Katherine's very presence was a balm to his frayed nerves. Despite a century of hating her, of convincing himself that everything they shared had been compulsion, at this moment the relief he felt with her was so palpable, so instantaneous, he couldn't get enough. "I don't understand this. Only weeks ago I hated you. Now, you're the only thing that…that I want."

"Mmmm," Katherine murmured, framing his face with her hands and holding it mere inches from her own. "There's a thin line between love and hate, Stefan. Those aren't just pretty words."

Forcing himself to take a step back, Stefan resisted the sudden urge to kiss her. Maintaining contact by cradling her hands in his, he pressed. "It's more than that."

"What do you mean?" Katherine frowned, an odd expression for her perpetually aloof features. Perhaps he wasn't the only one who somehow felt…safe all of a sudden.

"The blood…it calls to me. Demands that I just…take and take and _take_. I'm helpless to it," he explained, fighting for every word. He'd never tried to explain it to anybody - not even Damon or Elena after they'd sobered him up last time. "I can't stop it. I _feel _out of control. Except with you. You make me feel…normal. Even with human blood in my system, I can…think."

Stroking his face, Katherine said nothing for a long moment. The girl in the corner continued her whimpering, but Stefan ignored it. Eventually, she shrugged. "I don't know the answer, Stefan, but…I said I'd stay and I will. There's no reason you should have to live denying your true nature. You are so much more than that."

"Klaus grilled me about you when I got back this morning," Stefan confessed. "I lied and said I hadn't seen you, but I don't know if he believed me."

"Deceit was never your thing," she smiled, taking his hand and leading him to the low stone bench for mourners that ran along the wall. Sitting down, her skirt riding up past mid-thigh, she gracefully crossed her long bare legs. As she ran the toe of her spiked heel up his shin, she smiled. "That's one of the things I always loved about you."

Stefan scoffed and closed his eyes, reveling in the peace Katherine brought to him and at least for now, refusing to question it. "What else did you love about me?"

"Your honor. I thought it was so cute how chivalrous you were with me. I practically had to drag you into my room our first night together," she revealed, lacing her fingers through his. "What did you love about me?"

Opening his eyes, Stefan found her smile still coy, but the moonlight filtering through the door illuminated an earnestness that he'd never seen in her before. Whatever his answer, she was very keen to hear it.

"What did I love about you," he repeated. "Your spontaneity. Your fearlessness. The fact that you had the guts, even then, to be exactly who you chose to be, society be damned. Damon was always good at bucking expectations. I never could…even when I wanted to."

Katherine made a face. "Damon played at it, but all he ever wanted was the acceptance that came easily to you."

"I don't want to talk about Damon," Stefan shook his head, thoughts of his brother conjuring up his life in Mystic Falls and the girl he'd left in his brother's care. The girl he'd managed not to think about for days. Briefly, he let his gaze drift over the girl still huddled in the corner. The hope that had lit her features upon his arrival had vanished, replaced by a steady stream of tears now coursing down her cheeks. Suddenly, remembering the reason he'd needed so badly to see her, he sat up, turning on the bench to face Katherine fully. "We're leaving Charleston early tomorrow for Savannah. You have to come."

"Savannah? What's there?" Katherine raised a brow.

"I don't know, but that's Klaus's next stop."

"Why does he want me, Stefan?" she demanded, gripping his thigh.

"He says he has unfinished business with the original Petrova and he needs you," he explained, the truth falling from his lips. "What do you know about her?"

"Nothing. Klaus and Elijah never talked about their past," Katherine replied, rising to her feet and pacing in agitation. "I mean, they had siblings, boys and a single sister, but with all your research to avoid the sacrifice, you probably know more about them than I do. What do I have to do with the Original Petrova?"

"I don't know," he lamented. Desperately, he rose as well, stopping her midstride and grabbing her shoulders. "I didn't want to press because I thought he might realize I'd seen you and I…I won't let him hurt you, Katherine. Whatever his plan is, I don't care. I don't know why, but I need you. The bloodlust…the insanity…true nature or not, it's too much."

Uneasy, Katherine braced a hand on her hip, shaking her head. Stefan waited, afraid if he said more, she'd somehow disappear right before his eyes. Seconds passed, became minutes, until eventually she muttered a curse and sighed. "Fine. I'll follow you to Savannah. But you have to promise me, Stefan, that you're not going to give me away. I can't fall under Klaus's control again. I _can't_."

"I promise," he replied at once, willing to offer her anything to get her assurance that he'd be able to see her again when they arrived in Georgia. "I won't say anything and I'll figure out what he wants with you so we can stop him."

"You can't stop Klaus," Katherine snapped in a moment of real fear. Stefan couldn't remember seeing her like this. Her control over every situation was as much a part of her personality as her seductive charm. "All you can do is run and hide. Which is what we'll do when we know what we're up against, agreed?"

Run away with Katherine. The idea was tantalizing, opening up a world of possibilities. Stefan didn't even need to consider it. He nodded. "Agreed."

Instantly, she relaxed, even offered him that slow smile that set him on fire from the inside out. Rising from the bench, she took his hand and guided him to the far corner. In the silence, Stefan heard the human girl's heartbeat skip, then race as if chased by the devil himself. The obvious sign of fear sent a ripple of anticipation down his spine. Katherine wrapped her arms around his and whispered in his ear. "Let's enjoy your present, shall we?"

Fangs descending at the suggestion, he watched as Katherine grabbed the human's bound hands and yanked her to her feet. Presenting her to Stefan like a gift to a king, she raised a brow. "First taste?"

"Let's do it together," Stefan suggested. Katherine's grin turned truly wicked, her fangs descending as well. Simultaneously, to the music of the girl's muffled sobs, they leaned in and pierced the tender flesh of her throat.

* * *

><p>Damon winced as the Camaro bounced down yet another gravel road, scanning the scenery for signs of Landis. Much to his annoyance, Gregory had given him an actual address, rather than directions, which would have been helpful if Damon hadn't forgotten that they were in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains. Roads weren't so much a reality as a vague idea.<p>

Sitting silently in the passenger seat, Elena kept her eyes on the surrounding forest, barely sparing him a glance, let alone a word. She'd been quiet all afternoon, keeping her nose buried in a book while he'd pretended to peruse the pathetic basic cable offerings on the ancient television. In reality, he'd found himself… _brooding._

He'd spent most of the night lying awake, analyzing every move Elena had made as Katherine. Then he'd gone over the details again in the early morning hours as she slept, in a vain attempt to convince himself it had been nothing more than an act. The confusion, surprise and faint hint of desire he'd read in her eyes when they had broken apart, however, had not been what he would have expected from a woman who spent her days professing her love for his brother.

Eventually, Damon had convinced himself to blame the alcohol and forget about it, certain that after Elena had slept it off, she'd be consumed by regret. He thought he'd been right when he'd caught her peeking at him through the blinds, but the girl who had greeted him when he went back into the room hadn't been afraid to look him in the eye. To let him get close. To let him touch her. In fact, he was almost ready to believe that if Ric hadn't called, Elena would have allowed that kiss to happen.

Of course, if it had, the current silence would have been a hell of a lot more awkward.

As Damon took a right, turning onto yet another gravel road, Elena sighed. "So are we going to find this Landis sometime this month?"

"Do you see any road signs?" Damon sneered, accelerating as the forest began to recede from the edges of the gravel. "Wanna go back and ask Greg for better directions?"

Elena glanced at him and said sourly. "I'll pass, thanks. You still haven't told me how you know these guys."

"It's not much of a story," Damon shrugged. "Like I said, I ran into them in the 20s, right after they'd turned. They were making moonshine like every other backwoods idiot in the South, only since Prohibition had just been passed, they decided to take advantage of a perfect situation."

"A perfect situation?"

"Can you think of a better way for vampires to make money?" Damon glanced her way, raising a brow. "The mob wasn't the only one cashing in. You have a bunch of humans going out at _night_ with the sole purpose of getting as drunk as possible. Food came to us – no compulsion necessary. The speakeasies we ran made money hand over fist and when the feds showed up to shut us down they had this strange habit of forgetting they'd ever been there."

"Nice," Elena muttered, sarcasm dripping from the word. "So you ran a bunch of bars?"

"Not exactly," he paused, debating for a half-second whether or not to tell her the truth. He wasn't in the mood for a fight, but a believable lie didn't come to mind. "For a share of the profits I…controlled the competition."

"What do you mean 'controlled the competition'?"

Damon shrugged. "I made the competition go away."

"_Away?"_

"Yup."

"You mean you _killed_ them?"

Damon paused and glanced at her, the anger in his voice surprising him. "Yeah."

"Why am I not surprised?" she grumbled, crossing her arms and glaring angrily out the window again.

"Because you know me?" Damon countered, earning a snort of disgust from his traveling companion. "Seriously, Elena, you're gonna get mad at me over a bunch of wannabe mobsters I killed ninety years ago? Why am _I _not surprised?"

"You want me to be happy that you killed innocent humans?"

"Innocent?" Damon scoffed, staring at the back of her head, inadvertently pressing harder on the gas pedal. "These guys would have turned on each other for…ten bucks and a fifth of shitty gin. If you want to be mad at me at least make it about someone who deserves it."

"I'm sure there were plenty," she replied haughtily, tearing her gaze away from the window and meeting his defiantly.

"You have no idea," Damon taunted her, enjoying the way her eyes widened as he readily agreed with her. At times like these, when Elena climbed back on her high horse, casting judgment on everybody in her path, he relished the chance to remind her that most of his kind didn't spend their days constantly bemoaning their past. Rubbing her face in it may have been petty, but it was cathartic all the same.

The forest had receded significantly, the road cutting right through a natural clearing. The Camaro sped along far too quickly over the gravel, climbing up a gentle hill. Damon was too busy glowering at Elena to notice much of anything except the condescending set of her jaw and the accusation flashing in her eyes.

Cresting the top of the hill, the headlights suddenly lit upon a figure, a pale specter of a woman clad all in white. Damon saw it at the same moment that Elena screamed, so he knew it wasn't just his imagination.

"Damon, stop!"

Damon gripped the wheel tightly, slamming his foot on the break as the Camaro screamed in protest and began to spin.


	9. Mental As Anything

_AN: In which everybody is just a little bit nuts... Thanks so much for reading and replying! Hope you enjoy!_

Chapter Nine – Mental as Anything

Jeremy woke with a start, blinking at the moonlight streaming through the window of a nondescript motel room in eastern Missouri. The room was quiet and, aside from Bonnie and Alaric's even breathing, seemingly peaceful. Lying perfectly still, he glanced around, catching a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. Certainty and annoyance cut through him as he dragged his hand over his face. Something had pulled him from his dreams. _I'm so not in the mood for this._

Jeremy pushed the covers back slowly and eased out of the bed, trying not to wake Bonnie. He dressed quickly, making sure to grab the old school metal key from the top of the television and slip it in his pocket. He unlocked the door, holding his breath and praying the noise wouldn't wake Bonnie or Alaric. They didn't know about his little _problem _and he planned to keep it that way, at least until the latest crisis had been averted. Bonnie already had enough to worry about.

Jeremy leaned against the closed door, surveying the concrete parking lot. The night was cool, but not uncomfortably so, and there was no sound, no signs of life, not even a breeze to move the leaves in the scraggly trees lining the sidewalk. Cautiously, he made his way barefoot to the back of the black SUV and sat on the bumper. Waiting.

"Alright, I'm here," he muttered aloud, closing his hands into fists to hide their slight tremor. "You woke me up, now show yourselves."

Nothing happened at first, leaving Jeremy to wonder if he'd been wrong. Maybe the strange _something _that had yanked him from sleep had been nothing more than an unfamiliar noise in an unfamiliar place. Then the air thickened around him and a sudden breeze lifted the hair from his forehead, even though the leaves of the trees remained eerily still. A second later, they appeared, and while he knew by now they couldn't hurt him, couldn't even touch him, Jeremy started, pressing back against the tailgate.

Anna and Vicky stood before him, their forms solid, challenging his certainty that they weren't really there. That he was being haunted by the ghosts of his dead former girlfriends.

"Hey, Jeremy," Anna smiled.

Vicky grinned, placing a hand on her hip. "Did you miss us?"

"Sure," Jeremy replied after a long pause. "I just…can't get enough of being haunted by my dead ex-girlfriends."

"Don't talk like that," Anna protested, her smile faltering. "It took a lot of work to find you all the way out here."

"Yeah, we had to ask around," Vicky agreed, sidling next to Jeremy and leaning against the vehicle. At least it _looked _like she was leaning. _Could ghosts actually lean?_ "There are some seriously shady ghosts in Kentucky. You should have told us you were leaving."

"Oh yeah, sure," Jeremy nodded. "Next time, I'll pull out the Ouija board and give you directions." He paused. "Wait, what do you mean you had to ask around? Ghosts talk to each other?"

"Of course," Vicky rolled her eyes. "See? Hi, Anna."

"Hey, Vicky," the petite brunette replied brightly before dissolving into a fit of laughter. "What did you think, Jeremy? We all just die and go toward the light? There's a whole world of beings out there on the Otherside. "

"We're just like you, Jeremy. We laugh, we cry, we go on road trips and ask directions… We just don't, like, have bodies," Vicky laughed, wiggling fingers that weren't really there in Jeremy's face before joining Anna in another round of giggling. Frowning at his lack of amusement, Vicky huffed. "God, why do you hate fun?"

"I don't hate fun," Jeremy said, raising a brow at her pouting countenance. "I like fun. I even love fun. What I don't love is being woken up in the middle of the night so you two can talk in circles and never tell me what you want."

"Jeremy, we're _haunting _you," Anna said, reminding him of the only bit of real information they'd given him in their half dozen visits since he'd returned from the dead. "We don't _want _anything. You're stuck with us."

"For how long?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, offering him a sympathetic half smile even though she delighted in tormenting him just as much as Vicky. "Until Fate decides we're done, I guess."

"Right, so you might as well suck it up and enjoy the company," Vicky said, poking a finger at him. Although she didn't touch him, Jeremy flinched.

"Fine," he shrugged, conceding to circumstances beyond his control. Whatever Bonnie had done to bring him back had caused this and until he was ready to tell his current girlfriend he was spending his nights with his ex-girlfriends, he was – as Vicky so delicately put it – going to have to suck it up. "Tell me about the Otherside."

* * *

><p>The Camaro fishtailed wildly in the loose gravel as Damon fought with the steering wheel. Elena squeezed her eyes shut, clinging to the seat with one hand and her seat belt with the other, braced for the sickening impact once the heavy classic car collided with the figure in the middle of the road. Damon couldn't possibly avoid hitting her, she knew this with certainty, they were too close and driving way too fast.<p>

Suddenly, the Camaro's back wheel hit a soft spot and instead of the collision Elena had been expecting, momentum threw her against the passenger door as the back end of the car spun off the road into the tall grass. The gears screamed in protest as the wheels locked, and the vehicle plowed through the underbrush, before finally grinding to a halt in a cloud of dirt and dust.

In the sudden silence, Elena tried to calm her racing heart, eventually opening her eyes after a few peaceful seconds. Letting out the breath she'd been holding, she noted with surprise that the engine was still running. Glancing to her left, she met Damon's scrutinizing gaze.

"Are you okay?" she asked, forgetting their fight in the panic of the moment and intense relief that, at least from her perspective, he seemed fine.

Damon narrowed his eyes fractionally, hesitating just a moment before nodding. "You?"

"I'm fine," Elena swallowed, turning the opposite way and peering out her window. Miraculously, they hadn't hit anything and only the Camaro's back tires were off the road in the level grass. Unless the ground was nothing but mud, they shouldn't have a problem getting the hell out of there – which Elena wanted to do very, _very _badly. Fifty feet away, the figure in white still stood in the middle of the road as if nothing had happened. Clearing her throat, she asked. "Wh-what was that, Damon? _Who _is that?"

"Landis," he muttered rolling his eyes as he killed the engine and pocketed the keys. He issued an order before climbing out of the car. "Stay here."

Elena didn't argue, following his reflection in the rearview mirror as he walked around the vehicle. The latch on the trunk had released during the spin and Damon paused for a moment before slamming it shut with a scowl. Her eyes went wide and she braced herself yet again as he lifted the entire back end of the car off the ground and out of the tall grass, returning all four wheels to the road.

Nonchalantly, as if he threw classic cars around every day, he came to her side, opening the passenger door for her and holding out his hand. Elena stared at him. He wasn't even winded.

"Come on," he ordered, opening the door wider when she hesitated.

His body blocked the figure in white from her view, but Elena knew the woman was still there. Her skin broke out in goosebumps beneath the long-sleeved v-neck and leather jacket she wore. Shaking her head, she tried to smile. "I'll, um…stay in the car this time."

"You can't," Damon said, offering her a rueful smile.

Elena's stomach turned, but she began unbuckling her seatbelt anyway. "Damon-."

"I need you to stay close to me," he explained, forgetting his strength and pulling her to her feet too quickly. Elena lost her balance and would have fallen on her face if he hadn't locked his hands around her upper arms, steadying her. She stared up at him, her palms resting flat against his chest. If she'd needed a sign that her sudden apprehension was legitimate, the intensity in his gaze would have clued her in as he continued in a low voice. "If I leave you alone, you won't live through the next fifteen minutes."

"I've heard that before," she tried to joke, desperately needing Damon to quit being so serious so she could quit being so scared.

"This is different," he explained, pulling her fractionally closer. "Landis is…different. I didn't tell you everything about him."

Her gaze wandered toward the woman in white as she curled her fingers into fists around his t-shirt. "So, tell me now."

"Landis was a sociopath. As a _human_," Damon said, releasing her arm so he could take her chin and make her look at him instead of the freakishly still figure. "His body count was probably higher than mine before he turned sixteen. As a vampire -."

"Everything's magnified," Elena finished, ignoring another wave of nausea at the implications. "Stefan told me, but how do you know this has anything to do with him?"

"Trust me, this has Landis written all over it," Damon grimaced, scanning their surroundings. "I'm sure Greg let him know we were coming. Elena, if you ever plan on doing what I say without question, right now would be the time."

"I will, I promise," she replied, bobbing her head as if the more vehemently she agreed, the safer she'd stay. Damon held her gaze, studying her for a moment longer before releasing his hold on her and turning toward the lone woman standing some fifty feet away. Before he made it two steps, Elena slipped a hand into his and wrapped the other around his upper arm.

"You said stay close," she replied, responding to his questioning look. Damon smirked faintly and Elena was so relieved to see something of his usual self, she grinned.

Gravel crunched under their feet as they made their way down the lonely road. Elena's heart was pounding so hard against her ribs, an entire bottle of whiskey wouldn't have calmed it. The moon shone brightly overhead, casting their surroundings in a pale light. Despite all the life threatening situations and dangerous creatures she'd faced since meeting the Salvatores, Elena had never been this terrified.

They drew closer, details about the figure in white emerging with each step. Elena's initial assessment had been right, it was a woman wearing an ankle length, white dress with butterfly sleeves and an Empire waist. The woman's hair was long and so blonde it nearly matched the dress, blending with her equally pale skin. Elena bit her lip, noticing the woman's bare feet were dirty and bloody – a stark contrast to the serene expression on her face.

"She's been compelled?" Elena guessed, wishing her necklace hadn't disappeared as she brought a hand to her bare throat.

Damon had moved closer to examine the silent woman and he looked back at Elena sharply. "Are you still taking vervain?"

Gulping, Elena nodded.

"Good," he said, returning his attention to the frozen statue. The woman didn't acknowledge their presence, didn't move, didn't so much as blink to signal a living soul existed behind her vacant green eyes. Elena watched Damon, clinging to his hand as she counted the seconds until they could return to the car and get the hell out of there. Compulsion terrified her more than the threat of being bitten or even death. She still had nightmares about Jenna stabbing herself with a kitchen knife at Katherine's behest.

"Beautiful, isn't she?"

Elena screamed, clapping a hand over her mouth as she leapt away from the owner of the voice that had crept up behind her and suddenly whispered in her ear. Damon caught her before she could take more than a few steps, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. Her back hit his chest as she trembled in his arms, staring at the smirking blond vampire.

"I've got you," Damon promised, his lips brushing her ear. Raising his voice, he addressed the new arrival. "Nice entrance, Landis."

"Damon Salvatore," Landis grinned, showing off his descended fangs. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his black pants, bouncing on his heels. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't find me. Then again, better men have tried and failed."

"Yeah, yeah, you're a regular Houdini," Damon replied, rolling his eyes as he shifted his hold on Elena. He slipped his hand beneath the flap of her open jacket, stroking his thumb over her hip. _He won't let anything happen to me, _she thought, closing her eyes and doing her best to slow down her ragged breathing.

"Do I make Katherine Pierce nervous?" Landis asked, genuinely surprised. Elena's eyes flew open as the vampire cocked his head, closing the distance between them to mere inches in a fraction of a second. She tried to recoil, but Damon held them both perfectly still. Up close, Landis' grin was even more terrifying. "I was wrong. Not Katherine, but the equally famous, Elena Gilbert. I had it on good authority you were dead."

"I was," Elena managed, lifting her chin to meet his eye even though everything in her wanted to look away.

"Told you he'd notice," Damon muttered softly, earning him a glare. She wanted to elbow him in the ribs, but fear that he might let her go kept her from moving.

"So, the rumors are true, Damon," Landis replied, dismissing Elena. He strolled casually to the woman in white, studying her like a museum piece. "You've gone soft on humans."

"Not human_s_," Damon clarified. "Her."

"I'll forgive you," Landis offered graciously, smiling again. "I like humans, too."

The vampire lowered his mouth to his compelled victim and bit delicately into her neck. A thin line of blood trickled steadily down her throat, staining her pristine white dress. The woman didn't move, but her eyes widened and Elena realized with sudden horror that she wasn't oblivious to her surroundings.

"Damon," she whispered, clutching at the arm around her waist. "She's awake. She knows what's happening."

"I know."

"What? Why don't you-?"

"Quiet," he ordered, taking her hand and squeezing it. "We're not here for her."

Landis tore himself away from torturing the poor woman and looked at Damon quizzically, proving he'd heard every word. "Why _are _you here, Salvatore?"

"Come on," Damon sneered. "You expect me to believe the keeper of all our secrets doesn't know why I'm here? Please."

"Fair enough," Landis acknowledged, moving behind his prey and taking a moment to bite the other side of her neck, deeper this time. Elena couldn't tear her gaze away from the steady stream of blood running down the woman's arm. "What makes you think I'll tell you anything?"

"My eternal optimism and your eagerness to help your fellow vampire."

Landis laughed, the bright sound clashing sharply with the macabre surroundings. Blood continued to run down the woman's right arm, dripping off her fingertips and staining the ground black. Landis raised a brow, taking the woman's wrist and delicately licking the blood from her fingertips. Catching Elena's eye, he winked. "Wouldn't want to waste it."

Elena gagged and brought a hand to her mouth, fighting not to throw up.

"How about…because I asked. _Nicely._ And you know I don't ask twice," Damon countered, dropping the playful banter as he maneuvered Elena behind him, out of the safety of his arms. She stayed close, keeping her hand on his shoulder just for the physical contact. She wanted to look at him, to judge for herself just how much trouble - if any - they were in, but she couldn't look away from the woman in white, her eyes were growing wider and more horrified as her life literally drained slowly from her body.

For the first time, Landis looked less than amused, turning away from his plaything to glare at Damon. "Is that a threat?"

"Yeah," he replied, raising a brow. "Want to test me?"

"Damon, what are you doing?" Elena whispered through clenched teeth, finally looking at him. "Why are you taunting him?"

"Yes, Damon…why are you taunting him," Landis parroted, casually sauntering closer, his black eyes the only sign of his rising temper and slipping control. "You're scaring your pet."

"She's not afraid of you," Damon said, scoffing at the other man. "She pities you."

Scowling, Landis turned his back on Damon for the first time, blurring around to the other side of the woman in white and snatching her wrist. With savage fury, he bit into it, causing blood to actually gush from the wound. Elena closed her eyes, hiding her face against Damon's shoulder. Before they left, they had to save her.

"No one, especially not a _human,_ pities me," Landis snarled, sending shivers down Elena's spine as she wished she was back in Damon's arms where she was safe instead of standing behind him where anything could creep up on her.

"Oh, but they do, Landis," Damon continued, undaunted by the feral animal growling before him. "Everybody pities you because-." Suddenly, Damon moved behind Landis, twisting the younger vampire's arm behind his back and bringing him to his knees in front of Elena. She gasped, backpedaling as Damon wrapped his other hand around Landis's throat and squeezed.

"Because you have never learned your place," Damon continued, his voice casual, yet chillingly cold as he jerked on the arm. The sickening crunch of bones shattering echoed in the night and Landis screamed. "You think you're invincible because you're psychotic, but I could kill you right now without even breaking a sweat. I'm older, I'm _sane _and my threats aren't empty. I will break every bone in your body and stake you to the middle of this road to burn in the sun if you don't smile and tell me what I need to know, understand?"

"What do you want?" Landis gasped, spittle and blood dripping from his trembling lips.

"Where's Klaus?"

"Savannah," the vampire said, attempting to straighten and gurgling in agony as Damon's grip crushed his windpipe.

"Savannah?" Damon raised a brow, letting go of Landis' throat and hoisting him off the ground. "What the hell's in Savannah?"

One long coughing fit later, the blond vampire's throat had repaired itself and he gasped. "All I know is he had his properties along the coast prepared for him. All the way to Savannah. Half the vamps in this area have joined his entourage. He's looking for someone, but he didn't say who."

"Wait-you _talked _tohim?" Elena suddenly blurted out in a moment of courage. Stepping closer, she stopped as Damon glared at her and shook his head. "You saw Klaus?"

Landis barely flicked a gaze her way, curling his lip in disgust. "Of course I saw him. Him and his little lap dog."

"Stefan," Elena murmured, missing her boyfriend desperately in that moment and sickened by the fact that Stefan's sacrifice had led him here, to this _animal_.

"That's all I know," Landis said, twisting in an attempt to look at Damon, and for once Elena was content to be dismissed and ignored. "Now let me go, you bastard."

Landis slipped further out of control, pulsing, black veins standing out around his eyes. Elena had seen the mask slip before in other vampires, plenty of times, but something in Landis' expression scared her on a deeper, more primal level. There was no humanity left in him - if there had ever been any to begin with. He was a predator, nothing more, and humans were prey.

"Get behind me, Elena," Damon ordered, holding the writhing vampire as she immediately darted around him and started backing toward the car. The woman in white caught her eye, pleading wordlessly with her eyes for help. Elena froze, tears of pity flooding her eyes.

"Landis…always a pleasure," Damon said, pulling on both arms and dislocating the other vampire's shoulders. Landis screamed and fell to his knees yet again even as the joints began healing of their own accord. Damon wrapped an arm around Elena's waist, half carrying her toward the car. "Time to go."

"Damon, no," Elena argued, once again trapped by the scene of torture before her. "We have to help her."

"No," he replied curtly, leaving no room for argument.

"Please, Damon," she clutched at the hand digging into her side with bruising intensity. "He's gonna kill her."

"I know," he admitted as they arrived at the Camaro. He opened the passenger door, nearly wrenching it off the frame. "Get in the car."

"No!"

"Get in the fucking car," he demanded. Elena refused to move, blinking furiously as tears of anger and fear blurred her vision. Sighing, Damon pushed her roughly inside, slamming the door and blurring around to the driver's side before she could fully comprehend what had happened. As the car roared to life, he gave her one last order. "Do yourself a favor and don't turn around."

Horrified, Elena did exactly that, catching the moment when a fully restored Landis plunged his hand into the woman's chest as he drank from the pulsing vein in her already abused throat. The woman's mouth opened in a silent scream as he yanked his arm back, holding her still beating heart up to glisten in the moonlight.

Not even the dust and gravel kicked up by the tires as Damon pushed the accelerator to the floor could dull the bright sheen of blood gushing out of the hole in the woman's chest, turning the white dress a deep, dark red.

* * *

><p>Stefan arrived back at the safe house in Charleston fully sated, as close to peace as possible out of Katherine's presence. Trunks stood by the main entrance, waiting to be loaded into a truck for transport. With a shake of his head, he marveled at the preparations as he automatically traveled the familiar path to Klaus's office. They'd complete the trip to Savannah in a fraction of the time it took to pack.<p>

The second floor was empty, but the door at the end of the hall stood open, spilling light onto the plush red carpet in the hallway. He paused at the top of the spiral staircase, hearing a low, intense voice that he identified a split second later as belonging to Klaus. Despite his super-sensitive hearing, Stefan was halfway down the hall before he could make out the words.

"You needn't look at me like that," Klaus said, chastising whomever he was talking to with gentle reproach. Stefan was familiar with that tone, usually hearing it right before the Original ripped out the heart of a minion who had disappointed him. "It won't change my mind."

After a short pause, he was surprised to hear Klaus speak again, answering a question Stefan hadn't heard. "Now, you _know_ why," he insisted, anger building with each syllable. "I must be free from my sins once and for all if I am to ever father and lead a new race."

A flare of annoyance cut through Stefan's calm as he stopped a few paces away from the open door. _The damned hybrids. _Promise be damned, Stefan had no plans to help the Original succeed in his goal of creating a nearly invincible creature that could kill his kind with a simple well-timed scratch.

"I told you, never speak of my father," Klaus said coldly. Stefan tensed as something heavy was dragged across the hardwood floor inside the office. A shadow passed over the expanse of floor he could see and footsteps echoed within, coming to a stop on the far side of the room. Stefan eased forward, his boots sinking into the carpet. "Or Elijah. That soft-hearted sod lost his sense of purpose long ago."

Stefan frowned, pressing his palms into the wall as he leaned his head back against the wood paneling. Klaus hadn't spoken Elijah's name since they had left him in Pennsylvania. Irritation coursed through him as he concentrated, straining to hear the other illusive voice within.

"Honestly, I don't know if it will be painful for you," Klaus replied absently, pouring liquid into a glass, the sloshing sound reminding Stefan of the tumbler of blood he'd been looking forward to upon his return. The Original's next words, however, banished the thirst from his mind. "You will be inhabiting Ms. Petrova's body, so I imagine it might."

_Inhabiting Katherine? _Stefan's interest suddenly sharpened to concern, curling his hands into fists as his entire being rejected the idea of anything harming her. He edged closer, ignoring the risk of alerting Klaus to his presence in favor of hearing more.

"Oh, Liliana," Klaus sighed, setting his glass down with a loud thud. _Liliana, _Stefan mouthed the name silently, hunting through everything he'd ever learned about the Original for a reference, but coming up empty. Klaus's next words, however, froze the new blood in his veins. "Your fate is linked to the doppelganger's. Nothing you do will change that. She will die…and so, at last, will you."


	10. Twice Shy

_AN: I've been excited to post this chapter because I've been dying for a convo like this to happen on the show. Pretty sure I shouldn't hold my breath for it, but still, it needs to be said. I can't wait to hear what you think. Enjoy!_

Chapter Ten – Twice Shy

Lost in thought, Damon leaned heavily on the accelerator, taking turns far too quickly for the gravel roads. As Landis and the bloody massacre faded from his rearview mirror, he focused on the miniscule amount of information they'd gleaned about Klaus and Stefan.

Savannah wasn't far, they could get there by nightfall if they grabbed their things from the motel room and set out right away. Once there, it would just be the small matter of catching Stefan alone so that he could be vervained and brought to a secure location to sober up. Damon rolled his eyes, amused by the fact that finding and trapping Stefan would be the easiest part of this plan. It was an astounding testament to the insanity that had become his life. He hadn't even begun to consider what do to about Klaus. If Katherine could be trusted – which was always an unequivocal _maybe - _Stefan was fulfilling some sort of debt to the Original in exchange for Damon's life. Maybe he'd accept a trade…

"We have to go back." Elena declared suddenly, interrupting his musings.

"We have to _what?_" he frowned, acknowledging her with a glance for the first time since she'd turned around in her seat after watching Landis' brutal attack.

"Back," she repeated, urgency coloring her tone. "We have to go back and help that girl."

"Help what? The left over pieces of her corpse that Landis left behind?" Damon shook his head. "The girl is dead, Elena. Get over it."

Shock and righteous indignation radiated off Elena and Damon didn't even have to look at her to feel the heat. "I watched her get her heart ripped out and you want me to just '_get over it'_?"

"There's nothing you could have done," he reasoned, turning into the motel parking lot and pulling right up to their door. "That girl was dead before you even got out of the car. Getting in Landis' way would only have gotten you killed, too."

"You didn't even try," she accused, using her disappointment in an attempt to chastise him, but Damon wasn't about to feel guilty for what had happened.

"No, I didn't," Damon admitted without regret. He hadn't wished the girl dead, but he had no ties to her and no loyalty. Certainly nothing that would have prompted him to put Elena's life on the line. "Keeping you safe is my only priority, Elena, and I'm not apologizing for that."

Elena glared at him, her eyes rapidly filling with tears. Damon wondered if they were borne of anger or fear or helplessness, but she furiously blinked them away before he could guess. Hastily, she released the seatbelt and climbed out of the car, slamming the door behind her.

"Great," he grumbled, following close behind her as she ran to their room and began fumbling with the key. Finally opening the door, she tried to slam it in his face, but he easily caught it and followed her inside. Elena angrily stripped off her jacket and tossed it toward her suitcase before running her fingers though her hair.

Damon's eyes narrowed as he noted the signs that preceded a hysterical breakdown. The last time it had happened was after Bonnie's '_death_'. Slowly, he walked toward her. "You need to relax."

"Relax? How can I relax? I just watched a girl _die_, Damon. A _human_ girl who had a family and friends, maybe even kids or a husband who are never going to see her again. They're never even going to know what happened to her," Elena's face was pale and despite his certainty in his actions and the fact that, once again, she was going to use him as a punching bag, it cut him to see her so upset. "And you let that happen. You could have saved her and you just…_drove away_."

"I did what I had to do to keep you safe," he returned, as patiently as he could, ignoring the voice in his head that screamed at him not to engage, to walk away. "And yeah, a girl died, but you didn't know her any more than I did. Why are you taking this so personally?"

Tears glistened in her eyes as she sneered condescendingly. "So, her life somehow doesn't matter because I didn't know her? Is that what you're saying?"

_Here we go. _Damon briefly closed his eyes, shaking his head. "That's not what I said."

"Of course it was," Elena argued, furiously dashing away the tears as they started to slide down her cheeks. "I can't _believe _I ever thought there was any humanity left in you. There's not. You're just as bad as Katherine. The only thing that matters is what you want."

They'd reached the point in the argument where he usually retreated to maintain some semblance of dignity and to let her get over herself. He knew Elena, understood that this was how she reacted when she was scared or upset, lashing out at the most convenient target. Nevertheless, he was sick of being the one to always take the brunt of her fury. "Stop acting like this is the most awful thing I've ever done. I made a choice, Elena. To save someone I love over someone I've never even met. You've done the same thing."

"I have not," she cried with her usual righteous indignation.

"Oh really?" he countered, advancing on her and forcing her to back up until her knees hit the bed. "What about the sacrifice, Elena? You fought me every step of the way. You were determined to die, rather than see anybody you love get hurt."

"So?" Elena crossed her arms, eyes blazing as she stared up at him. "I'd do it again. I'm not special, Damon. I'm not going to let anybody I care about die in my place."

"Except they did, didn't they?" he reminded her, mimicking her stance and crossing his arms as well. "Tyler and Caroline were waiting on the altar until I broke them out of their cage and it was Jules and Jenna who took their place. Now, I could give a fuck about Jules dying, but even if it hadn't been her, even if Klaus had found a werewolf and a vampire that none of us knew…that still would have been two people dead because you refused to fight and risk the lives of those that you loved. So, tell me again, Elena. How is that any different? Or are _humans _the only ones worth saving?"

Elena turned red, dropping her gaze and for a moment, Damon entertained the idea that he'd won this round. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she rallied, calmly speaking through the tears as she drew from her vast arsenal of painful barbs. "Stefan would have saved her. He would never have left that girl to die."

_Shit, w__hy did I engage?_ Damon groaned in frustration at the mention of his sainted brother. There would be no winning this argument now that Stefan had been dragged into it. Just like when they had been alive, Stefan could do no wrong. He was out there now, violently murdering girls who looked like Elena, and their roles were still the same. Turning away from her, he paced the small room. "I'm sure Stefan _would _have saved her. And during the split second he inevitably turned his back on Landis, you'd be dead. But, oh well, right? At least this random girl's friends and family would get _her _back," he said, eyes blazing as he returned to her. "The lives of half a dozen people you claim to care about would be changed forever. Jeremy would have to bury the last of his family, but hey, at least you could die with a clear conscience."

"Of course you'd turn Stefan's conscience into a weakness," she accused, meeting his gaze defiantly.

"It _is _a weakness," he hissed, clenching his teeth. "What has his conscience ever done for us except dig the hole deeper and increase the body count?"

"We should have at least tried, Damon" Elena replied stubbornly, her lower lip trembling. "Stefan would-."

Damon sneered, fed up with listening to how his brother would have saved the day. "Right now the only thing Stefan would have done is fight Landis for the right to rip that girl's heart out."

Elena started as if he'd dealt her a physical blow. Damon half expected her to take a swing at him in retaliation, but no matter how much he might have deserved it for the cheap shot, he wasn't letting her have one this time. "I told you, I will always choose you. If that means a hundred people die, so be it. Stefan has always been weak and the fact that he would let _anything _take him away from you just proves it."

"I wish he hadn't," Elena whispered, sinking to the mattress and covering her face with her hands as her shoulders began to shake with silent sobs.

Damon stared at the top of her head, feeling a coldness wash over him as he heard what she didn't dare speak aloud – that Stefan had made the wrong choice, that his life wasn't worth the price. He'd said it himself, more than once, but every time she'd challenged it, had told him he was wrong before he'd finished his sentence. He'd known she was only saying what she was supposed to say, yet he'd taken a small measure of comfort in the idea that even though she couldn't love him, she at least valued his life.

He'd been a fool.

"So do I," he said, backing away from her and heading for the door. The façade of the past few days crumbled around his shoulders. He'd forgotten the one basic truth of his existence. No matter what he did, what era he was in, he would never be Stefan.

Elena gasped, the tears in her voice as she called to him nearly shredding what was left of his heart. "Damon, wait-."

Damon didn't wait. Unable to bear another minute in the same room with the woman he was painfully in love with but couldn't have, he opened the door and walked out into the black night where he belonged.

* * *

><p>Katherine perched on a barstool, sipping her second Cosmopolitan and surveying the Savannah nightlife. The place was crowded, every inch of the dance floor packed as writhing humans gyrated against each other in what passed for dancing in the 21st century. Not that Katherine had a problem with it. The bumping and grinding lacked the sophistication and propriety of the dances she'd learned as a young woman, but at least it was honest. Regardless of the choreography, at their core, dances had always been about attracting a member of the opposite sex and she found it refreshing that the patrons of this club made no attempt to hide that.<p>

Smiling, she took another sip of her drink and turned away from the dance floor. A long mirror flanked by vibrantly hued bottles was set over the bar and allowed her to surreptitiously survey the club. Stefan was supposed to meet her here.

He was late.

Draining her glass, she'd no sooner set it down on the reflective surface of the highly polished bar when a new drink was put in front of her. She blinked at the pinkish concoction and raised a brow at the bartender.

"This one's on the house," he explained, almost sheepishly. Glancing down the length of the bar he tipped his head at the crowd of men three deep, all completely failing at their attempts to subtly gawk at her. "You're good for business."

Katherine grinned, but before she could accept the flattering offer, she felt an arm snake around her waist. Stefan scowled at the bartender, his fingers digging into her side. "She's also spoken for."

Years of playing different roles to stay alive had made Katherine an excellent poker player, so even though Stefan's possessiveness shocked her, she didn't show it. Leaning into him as if she did it every day, she placed a hand on his chest and gazed up into his eyes. "It's just a drink."

The bartender quickly retreated, leaving the fresh Cosmo in front of her. When he was out of earshot, Katherine curled her fingers around the lapel of Stefan's jacket and dropped the fawning girlfriend act. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Stefan replied, glancing furtively around the bar. The hand on her waist continued to grip her tighter as the muscles in his jaw ticked. For the first time I it occurred to her that a club – full of exposed flesh and pounding hearts – might not have been Stefan's meeting place of choice.

"We could go somewhere else," she suggested. While she enjoyed the free drinks and fawning attention of the patrons, she couldn't care less what happened to them. Still, a bloody massacre wasn't the best way to keep a low profile and stay off of Klaus's radar.

Stefan didn't answer her, snatching the drink instead and draining the glass in a single gulp. With effort, he focused on her, giving her a tight-lipped smile as he sat rigidly on the barstool next to her. "I said I'm _fine_."

Katherine knew he wasn't, but Stefan could make his own choices. She was stronger than him and if need be, could get him out of the club before he did too much damage and exposed them. Crossing her legs, she shifted in her seat. "How do you like Savannah?"

Stefan looked around the club, a muscle ticking in his jaw. "It's changed since the last time I was here."

"When was that," she laughed. "The '30s?"

"Something like that," he murmured, enthralled by the people, the _humans_. Katherine raised a brow, watching as his pupils dilated, turning black and devouring the whites of his eyes.

"Stefan, let's-."

He grabbed her arm, jerking her off the barstool before she could finish suggesting they leave. The dense crowd prevented him from speeding directly to the exit and giving away their _other _status, but more than one patron angrily shouted after them as they were pushed roughly out of the way.

Stefan didn't stop when he reached the entrance, rushing past the bouncer and onto the sidewalk. A long line of people gazed at them enviously as they waited to get inside the club. Ignoring them, he turned in the opposite direction, still dragging Katherine along by the arm. Amused and curious, she let him, assuming he was seeking refuge from the throng of live bodies and furiously beating hearts within the club. He ducked into the first alley he found, stopping near the entrance and letting her go.

"Better?" Katherine asked, crossing her arms and watching him pace. Stefan shook his head as he held his head in his hands.

"No, I…," he stopped, whirling around to face her. Abandoning all pretense of humanity, he grabbed her arms and pinned her against the rough brick wall of the alley. Katherine only had a moment to note, yet again, the difference in his strength and speed now that he was drinking human blood before he did the last thing she expected…

Stefan kissed her.

Her eyes widened in surprise at the sudden contact, arms dangling uselessly at her sides. For over a century, she'd fantasized about the moment she'd have Stefan back in her arms but she'd never expected it to happen like this. His hands found their way to her hair, delving into the thick curls as he held her in place. She remembered every kiss they'd ever shared and this was nothing like the awestruck fumblings of a boy who thought she was out of his league. Stefan's kiss was hungry, demanding she give him everything she had and Katherine did willingly. Closing her eyes, she sunk into the kiss, grabbing the lapels of his jacket and pulling him even tighter against her.

When they drew apart a lifetime later, Katherine's lips actually felt bruised. Stefan buried his face in her hair, his lips brushing the shell of her ear as he confessed wickedly. "I've wanted to do that since I saw you in the cemetery."

Katherine smiled as she smoothed her hands up his chest and around his neck, seeking his mouth for another kiss. Savoring the taste of something she'd waited so long to get back, she dragged it out, committing each second to memory.

"Feel better now?" she asked, letting her head fall back against the brick wall. Her voice was breathless and airy and completely foreign to her ears. Stefan smirked as she traced his lips with her finger. "Next time I won't have you meet me in a club full of such easy pickings."

"I haven't fed since last night," he said, back in control, but still holding on to her tightly, like he was afraid she'd somehow disappear. "That probably didn't help either."

Katherine raised a brow as she stopped the sensual movement of her finger to clasp both her hands behind his neck. "And why is that? Tired of the human blood already?"

"No," he replied immediately, blinking as if the admission surprised him. Shaking his head, he repeated more forcefully. "No…but what if I was?"

She tilted her head. "That depends, I guess."

"On what?"

"On whether this sudden reunion of ours is only because you can't handle the hard stuff," she said, shrugging in an attempt to mask how much his answer mattered. She loved Stefan, but she'd lived a very long time and wasn't about to naively assume they would live happily ever after. If the blood was the only reason he was drawn to her, it would be better to know now.

"I can't answer that," Stefan confessed, the anguish and confusion that she'd witnessed the night before, gone. This was simple fact and she could take it or leave it. Studying her, he slid his hands down the sides of her body, his thumbs teasing the sides of her breasts before settling on her hips and pulling her tightly against him. "Is that a problem?"

Katherine grinned, reveling in the intimate contact that _he'd_ initiated and decided she'd take what she could get…for now. "I suppose not. Human, animal, blood bag…I don't really care what you drink as long as it's what you want."

"Good. That's good," he replied, kissing her again and gently nipping at her bottom lip. "Because I need you do me a favor and go to Pennsylvania."

"Wait, what?" Katherine demanded, taken aback. "What the hell is in Pennsylvania?"

"Elijah," Stefan revealed. "And hopefully answers as to why Klaus wants you and someone named Liliana dead."

* * *

><p>Damon sat on a tree stump in the shadows of the forest across the highway from the motel, scowling at the darkened window of the room he was sharing with Elena. Not long after he'd walked out on her, the light had gone off without Elena making the slightest attempt to track him down.<p>

It was probably the most intelligent thing she'd done all night.

The motel was quiet, the diner and gas station deserted, leaving Damon with no outlet for his anger, no innocent humans to hunt and kill and use as a buffer between him and his thoughts. The Camaro sat like a sentry in front of the flimsy motel door, taunting him with the fact that even though he had the means to be anywhere else in the world, he couldn't take advantage.

He couldn't leave Elena.

Groaning, he ran his hand through his hair, wishing that he could hate her the way he hated Katherine. It should have been easy. Both women had chosen Stefan over him - would _always _choose Stefan over him - but no matter what Elena did or said, his loyalty kept him coming back for more. He was doomed to fall into the same traps over and over again, letting himself believe that their camaraderie meant she'd finally forgiven him for all the ways he'd hurt her and shattered her trust. Once again, reality came crashing in – there was no forgiveness. Elena hadn't forgotten, no matter what she'd promised to a dying man.

Lashing out in a sudden burst of rage, Damon swung at the living tree next to him, splintering the trunk. For over a century, he'd embraced who he was – what he was – and had thrived on the respect and admiration of his kind. He'd been _good _at being a vampire. The human Damon Salvatore, the second best son, had faded into a barely remembered nightmare. A few months in Mystic Falls and he was right back to where he'd started, worse this time because everything was more intense. Rose had been right about that humanity switch, only Damon didn't blame time for its destruction, he blamed Elena. She'd gotten under his skin when he wasn't looking and found his humanity, attaching herself to it until she was an irrevocable part of him.

And through it all, he loved her. Beyond hope, beyond reason, beyond the fact that she would always choose someone else over him. If anything, her consistency, her loyalty made him love her more. The night he had nearly died, Damon thought he'd accepted the futility of his feelings for her. He'd thought that by choosing honesty in a moment of vulnerability, he'd be free of the jealousy and anguish. He knew now there was no freedom from this love…this _emotion _that ate away at his self-control and threatened to render him just as unhinged as his brother.

_It will always be Stefan._

"Fuck, how does he do this?" Damon muttered aloud. How did his brother _brood _like this and not go freaking insane? Stefan had devoted decades to self-loathing and introspection. Damon had only been at it for a small fraction of his existence and he was ready to fall on a stake.

Jesus. His life _sucked. _

A shrill ringing emanated from his back pocket and cursing, Damon retrieved his cell phone and stared at the caller ID. A useless _Unknown _flashed at him in time to the tone as he considered tossing it into the trees…for spite. The utter ridiculousness of the idea and the temptation of a momentary respite from his all-consuming anger won out.

Damon sighed, punching a button. "Yeah?"

"Hello, Damon," a silky smooth voice replied, sliding across his skin and making him shudder.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," he muttered, fighting either a scream of rage or hysterical laughter at the irony. "This better be good."

"Wow," Katherine replied dryly. "That's quite the greeting, Damon. A girl might take offense."

"I don't care how you take it," he replied, sneering into the phone even though she couldn't see him. "What do you want?"

"I know where your brother is," she teased in a singsong voice.

"He's in Savannah," Damon snapped. "You're a day late and a few dollars short."

"Last I checked, I saved your life," Katherine retorted, dropping the coy act. "A little gratitude would be appreciated."

"What makes you think I'm grateful?" Damon shot back, before instantly regretting the open invitation to pry into his life. Hastily, he tried to get back on track. "I don't have time for games, Katherine. We're leaving soon and -."

"We? Who's we?" Katherine asked, latching onto the slip like a dog with a bone. "Who's your travel buddy, Damon? Are you and Alaric Saltzman taking your bromance on the road?"

"Can we get back to the point?"

"No, it can't be him. You two would be having way too much fun getting wasted and swapping stories about the women – excuse me, _woman – _you shared to be this pissed off," Katherine fell silent for a split second as Damon imagined reaching through the phone and strangling her. Suddenly, she gasped. "You're with Elena."

"Katherine-."

"Don't deny it," she said, laughing delightedly. "I know it's her. Nobody gets under your skin like _Elena_."

"Are you done?" he demanded, wondering vaguely why he didn't just hang up on her.

_I'm goddamn a masochist, that's why._

"I wonder what Stefan would say," she mused. "You haven't asked me about him, Damon. Or are you too busy trying to get into his girlfriend's pants to care?"

"I'm hanging up now."

"Oh, lighten up, I was just getting to it," she grumbled, dropping the witty banter. Damon ground his teeth together as he listened to her overdramatic sigh. "Stefan's in Savannah with Klaus, but apparently you already know this, so I'll get to the part you don't know. Klaus is planning another ritual and is using Stefan like bait to lure me in. He needs me. I'm on my way to Pennsylvania to get Elijah because Stefan thinks he can help stop it."

"Right, because Elijah totally helped us out the last time," Damon muttered, rolling his eyes. This was all he needed, Katherine and the Originals reinserting themselves into this mess. "What does this have to do with me?"

"Everything. You need to get to Savannah and get Stefan away from Klaus," Katherine insisted urgently. "He's too…unpredictable right now to play double agent with an Original. Klaus will see right through it and kill him," she paused before adding slyly. " Of course, that's assuming you still _want _to save him, of course."

"Tyler and Caroline killed a couple of vamps in Pennsylvania who said they were guarding a warehouse on Klaus's orders. Could be Elijah," he suggested, ignoring Katherine's attempt to rankle him about Elena. He noted the tree he'd nearly toppled was leaning dangerously close to a power line as he paced in the underbrush. Abruptly he came to a halt as a new thought occurred to him. "How much time have you been spending with Stefan, anyway?"

Katherine didn't reply right away and Damon wished he could see the expression on her face. After a moment, she said crisply. "No more than you've been spending with Elena."

"Are you trying to help my brother or make him more insane?"

"Maybe I'm doing both."

"Katherine, I swear to God-."

"Goodbye, Damon," she said briskly, ending the call before he could object. Not that he would have. His brain couldn't take much more of Katherine's double talk. Pocketing his cell phone thoughtfully, Damon walked back across the highway toward the motel. At least the conversation hadn't been a complete waste. His anger and frustration had subsided to a manageable roar, allowing him to focus on the fact that they now knew Klaus's plan and for once the key ingredient wasn't Elena Gilbert.

"Maybe I'll keep you alive yet, Elena," Damon muttered, opening the door and bracing himself to face her again. Falling on that stake was starting to sound like the best idea he'd had all day.


	11. A Not So Simple Plan

Chapter Eleven – A Not So Simple Plan

On his third day without Katherine, Stefan stood on the roof of Klaus' hideout in Savannah, watching the sunset, wishing he'd never asked her to go. Most of the surrounding buildings had been converted into clubs and the noise from the traffic and people four stories below rose in a cacophony of sound all the way to the roof, grating on his already raw nerves and fueling the bloodlust that was once again dominating his every waking moment. When he wasn't lost in the thrall, half crazed by visions of blood and the desolation of being without her, he was counting the seconds until she returned.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Stefan turned his back on the skyline and retreated to the stairs, taking them all the way to the lobby of the antebellum hotel Klaus called his Savannah home base. In the dim lighting, the eerily familiar pre-war architecture wreaked havoc on his equilibrium as memories of his human life surfaced to clash with his present surroundings.

The Original's entourage of adoring vampire followers had grown and with it their compelled human sacrifices. Everywhere he looked, he saw Katherine, clinging to the arm of a blond vampire who must have been turned at fourteen; pressed into a corner, her head thrown back as she bared her neck to a vampire couple poised to feed; in a small alcove off the main entrance, stretched out like a buffet offering over the laps of several vampires; one kissed her as the rest tapped veins on her arms, thighs and neck and drained her quickly.

Abandoning his plan to gather information on Klaus, Stefan ignored the adoring sycophants as he pushed through the main doors onto the darkening Savannah streets. He needed to feed, indulge and take the edge off while Katherine was gone. The promise of her return was the only thing keeping him even remotely sane.

Bouncers flanked the entrance of the hotel, warding off any uninvited guests, and they barely paid attention to him as he scanned the streets for suitable prey. The pulse of a thousand human hearts echoed in his ears as the city's nightlife thrived within a five block radius. Just one girl – maybe two – and he'd be able to confront Klaus with a clear head.

Before he could begin his hunt, a motorcycle roared down the street, jumping the curb and coming to a halt directly below the hotel marquee. A burly, no-necked vampire removed his unnecessary sunglasses as he flicked a lit cigarette to the pavement. Swinging his leg over the bike, he hailed Stefan with a grin before sauntering over with an exaggerated swagger.

"Salvatore," he said, plucking a pack of cigarettes from the rolled sleeves of his tight white t-shirt. Fluidly, he flipped the top of his Zippo, cupping his hand around the small flame and inhaling like he'd been in withdrawal for hours rather than seconds. "Are you on guard duty now or something?"

"I was just leaving," Stefan said, keeping the explanation simple as he continued scanning the crowd. Joseph DeNinno had been turned in the '50s and had never really left the decade. He still preferred to stalk his prey in old-fashioned diners and malt shops. "What are you doing here?"

"I've got a message for Klaus," he said, keeping the cigarette clenched between his teeth and allowing ash to drift down the front of his shirt.

"They had phones in the '50s," Stefan pointed out, raising a brow.

"Yeah, my cell died," Joe admitted, watching Stefan warily. "I forget to charge the damn thing."

"So, what is it?" he frowned, picking up on the messenger's reluctance.

"It's your brother," Joe inhaled, removing the cigarette and regarding Stefan through narrowed eyes. Blowing a plume of smoke into the air he looked across the street at the sidewalk full of clamoring club patrons. "He's in Savannah."

"Damon's _here?" _Stefan demanded, the unexpected news cutting through the bloodlust.

"Yup," Joe nodded. "He brought Elena Gilbert with him."

Surprise allowed his humanity to stir at the mention of Elena's name, pushing against the switch and demanding that Stefan remember his love for her, even if he couldn't feel it. That residual part of him raged at his brother for putting her in danger and bringing her here, so close to the vampire who had killer her.

His vampiric nature quickly banished the humanity back to the recesses of his mind as he considered the startling, but not unexpected news. He'd known Elena wouldn't let him go without a fight and while he'd barely thought of her in the past month, on some level he'd been waiting for this inevitable moment. His rescue party had arrived to free him from Klaus, take him back to Mystic Falls and dry him out again. Then he'd be Good Stefan, the vampire who denied what he was, wallowing in animal blood and decades' worth of guilt.

Closing his eyes, Stefan reached out with his senses to the unsuspecting humans around him, listening to the beat of a thousand hearts and almost tasting the blood pumping through the untapped veins. He thought of Katherine and their kiss, his body aching at the idea that by morning it might be over, that he might be on his way back to Mystic Falls. What if his feelings for her really were a byproduct of the bloodlust? If Damon and Elena succeeded, he'd lose Katherine for another hundred years. His eyes snapped open, his temper spiking.

He couldn't let that happen.

"Where are they?" Stefan demanded, taking a set of keys from one of the guards at the door and heading toward the line of ostentatious black, luxury SUVs parked at the curb.

"On the other side of town," Joe replied, jogging to keep up.

"Get in," he ordered, walking around the hood to the driver's door.

"Shouldn't we tell Klaus?" Joe asked, in awe of the Original in a way Stefan never had been.

"We'll tell him later," Stefan replied, climbing in and bringing the vehicle to life with a twist of the key. Seconds later, tires squealed as he pulled away from the curb.

* * *

><p>In a small town in Missouri, Bonnie, Jeremy and Alaric huddled in the shadows of a recessed storefront, staring across the street at the shop on the opposite corner.<p>

"Are you sure about this, Bonnie?" Jeremy asked, putting his arm around Bonnie's shoulder and keeping his voice low. It was just past ten o'clock, but the streets were empty, like the entire town had collectively gone to bed for the night. "That looks like a bookstore."

"It is a bookstore," Alaric said, narrowing his eyes at the awning. "Harrison's Antiques, Books and Curiosities."

"The spirits are telling you our vamps are in an antique bookstore?" Jeremy asked, doubtfully.

"Yes," Bonnie glared at him. "For the fifth time, yes. This is where the void is and that can only mean vampires."

"Why?"

"Because they're alive, but… not, because they have no heartbeat," she explained. Then she lifted a shoulder, biting her lip. "Or something like that. Look, I don't really know. The spirits just told me to look for a void and Harrison's Antiques, Books and Curiosities are where it took me."

"Awesome," Jeremy replied dryly. "So, we're going to walk into a _bookstore _that may or may not be full of vampires. This is a great plan."

"You don't have to come," Alaric shrugged.

"Right, so I can hang back, get jumped and die _again_?" Jeremy snorted. "I'll pass. Besides, when have stupid plans ever stopped any of us?"

"This isn't all that bad," Alaric said, leaning against the glass window of the drugstore they were loitering by. "I've done more with worse."

"Oh, that makes me feel so much better," Bonnie sighed. "Look, all we have to do is get in quietly. As soon as I know what I'm dealing with, I'll put the vamps on the ground and you guys can take your time staking them. Just don't go all Buffy in there and start ad-libbing, okay?"

After getting a nod of agreement from both men, Bonnie took a deep breath, stepping out of the shadows and onto the street. The plan was simple. Pick the lock, find the vampires, do a little brain melting and then stake them. No fuss, no muss. If they were able to ask some questions and find out where Klaus had taken Stefan, fantastic. If not…well, at least a few monsters would be dead and the humans in the area could continue to sleep in blissful ignorance of the things that went bump in the night.

The first part of the plan was immediately rendered useless once they stepped up to the curb. Someone had beaten them there and broken in, littering the sidewalk with shards of broken glass. Bonnie glanced at Jeremy and Alaric, raising her brows before bravely entering the unknown.

The interior of the shop was dark and thick with the cloying scent of old books and dust. Bonnie waited for her eyes to adjust before taking another step in, scanning the cluttered space for movement. _Of course, _she reasoned, _a vampire could kill me before I even noticed he was there. _

Suddenly, a dark shadow streamed past her, barreling into Jeremy and sending the boy hurtling into a bookshelf along the wall. Bonnie screamed as Alaric lunged to help, only to be thrown in the opposite direction by another faceless shadow. A tremendous crash nearly deafened her as an entire curio of antique glass shattered under the impact of the two grown men. For a split second she was frozen, her brain a complete blank.

"Bonnie!" Jeremy yelled at her from the floor where he was wrestling with his vampire attacker. His voice was enough to snap her back into herself, and she closed her eyes, drawing up the incredible Power she'd received in preparation for the sacrifice. It shot out of her with an unbelievable force, crippling the vampires in seconds.

Jeremy bested his vampire first, staking him from below and shoving the decaying body off of him onto the dusty hardwood floor. Alaric's fight was harder as the vampire had attacked from behind, but with his companion dead, Bonnie was able to focus all of her Power on the remaining vampire, giving Alaric the opening he needed to drive a stake straight through the ribcage and into whatever was left of the vampire's heart. The entire fight had lasted mere seconds, but they felt like the longest of Bonnie's life as she quickly ran to Jeremy and knelt at his side.

"Are you okay?" she demanded, holding his face in her hands.

"I'm fine," he grinned, exhilarated at the success of their mission. "That was amazing."

Bonnie couldn't help grinning as she kissed him quickly. "Yeah, it kinda was."

"I'm fine, too, thanks for asking," Alaric called, climbing out of the debris with a groan. Shaking bits of broken pottery and glass from his hair, he held up a hand. "No kiss necessary."

"I'm glad you're okay, too, Ric," Bonnie smiled, allowing Jeremy to pull her to her feet. Giving the dead vampire a wide birth, she crossed to the history teacher and brushed a piece of glass from his shoulder. "Nice work."

"Thank y-."

A loud crash silenced him, making Bonnie jump as it shook the entire floor. The bookshelf Jeremy had been thrown into had toppled over, having been set off balance during the fight. The heavy antique landed on top of the decaying vampire, driving the stake even further into his body. As the dust settled, Bonnie discovered the secret it had been hiding.

"Guys, look at this," she said, picking her way through splintered wood and shriveled limbs. A jagged hole had been deliberately cut into the wood paneling, the studs beneath creating a makeshift shelf where three leather-bound books sat, covered in a layer of dust. Gingerly, she touched one of the spines, causing a fine layer of leather to flake off on her fingertips. Nodding toward the dead bodies, she murmured. "I wonder if they were looking for these."

"Oh, I'd say so," Jeremy replied, picking up a volume and showing them the cover. _Vampire _was branded into the leather in gothic script.

Frowning, Alaric picked up the next book, even more ancient in appearance, while Bonnie took the last one. The crumbling pages within revealed a wealth of spells and incantations, far darker and blacker than anything she had ever seen. Her skin crawled just looking at the titles. "This is some serious magic. I wouldn't even want to-."

"Damn," Alaric breathed, unaware that he'd spoken out loud. Bonnie and Jeremy looked at each other, then at the teacher as he studied a page half-way through the book. "I think we found her."

"Who?" Jeremy asked, squinting in the dim light. Alaric rotated the book so they could see the illustration and the lighting no longer mattered. Jeremy had seen that face – Elena's face – every day of his life. "Is that Katherine?"

Alaric shook his head. "This is written in Old English. People quit using it long before Katherine."

"Then that means-."

"Unless there's another doppelganger somewhere in history," Alaric nodded. "I think this is the original Petrova."

* * *

><p>Three days was a long time to feel like a miserable bitch.<p>

Elena scowled at her reflection in the bathroom mirror as she straightened her hair, reliving for the millionth time her fight with Damon and the unexpected fallout. Fighting with him was like breathing sometimes, but in the past she'd always been able to get some space and avoid him for a few days while one or both of them calmed down. Unfortunately, being on an open ended road trip and stuck sharing motel rooms while they looked for Stefan made walking away virtually impossible. To make matters even more awkward, Damon wouldn't leave her unprotected, making their coexistence a very strained experience.

Elena was used to his temper and impulsive reactions, to feeling the heat of his anger when she defied his plans. She vividly remembered the heartless jerk who'd taken such pleasure in tormenting them all when he'd first arrived in Mystic Falls, but she'd never experienced this version of Damon with his utter and total detachment. Since the moment he'd woken her up – mere hours after their fight –and told her they were leaving for Savannah, Damon had been civil, but distant, shutting her down cold every time she tried to bring it up. They still disagreed, but there was no heat to his arguments, no passion, nothing of the man she'd come to know and rely on.

And he'd been sleeping in the Camaro.

Elena set the flat iron on the counter, unplugging it as she gave her work a cursory glance. Through the slightly open bathroom door, she heard Damon quietly speaking to someone on the phone. The search for Stefan had hit a dead end in Savannah. While most of Damon's contacts had freely admitted that Klaus was in town, none had been willing to risk the Original's ire by saying where, leaving them to guess where to look next.

Adding another coat of gloss to her lips, Elena finally ran out of viable ways to avoid Damon and braced herself to face him. Opening the bathroom door just enough to slip out, she tugged at the hem of her pink tank top, hoping tonight would finally be the night he'd break and let her apologize.

Sitting on the bed by the door, Damon tapped his cell phone against his chin and stared into space. Elena waited for him to acknowledge her, biting her lip and trying not to fidget. Eventually, she cleared her throat and he flicked a glance her way.

"So, did you have any luck?" she asked, trying not to sound as depressed as she felt.

"No," Damon said shortly. "Klaus is being treated like a freaking king and everybody's closed ranks."

"Okay," she replied, her mind racing at the potential opportunity to spend time with him _without _having to worry about Stefan. "What's the plan?"

"There is no plan, Elena," Damon said, scowling at his phone. A small flicker of hope flared in her heart as she watched him. He'd barely used her first name the past few days.

"Then let's go to that bar across the street and take the night off," she suggested, mentally crossing her fingers.

Damon's head shot up as he stared at her. "'Take the night off'? Seriously? What happened to finding Stefan at all costs?"

"You said we had no leads," she reminded him, shoving aside the guilt his questions raised. "Is there a law that says we have to sit in this motel room all night and be depressed about it?"

"You're _asking_ me?" Damon questioned, narrowing his eyes as his lips twitched with the barest hint of amusement. At least, Elena hoped it was amusement as her stomach turned at the idea of withstanding polite Damon Salvatore for even one more night. Shrugging when it became obvious that she wasn't joking, he held out a hand toward the door. "After you."

Across the street, Damon held the door of the bar open for her as Elena went inside. Surveying the typical low lighting, plain wooden tables and chairs, requisite pool tables, dart boards and old jukebox in the corner, she breathed a sigh of relief. A dive by most people's standards, after The Crossroads, Elena considered it five star.

A hair band power ballad that she recognized but couldn't name poured from hidden speakers as she made her way to the bar and climbed onto a stool. Choosing a seat beside her, Damon was careful not to allow their bodies to touch, even for a second. Elena propped her elbow on the bar, holding back a huff of frustration.

Immediately, the bartender, a twenty-something blond with a smile so wide it nearly cracked her face in half, zeroed in on Damon and scurried over like an eager puppy. Grimacing, Elena watched as she crossed her arms and leaned against the bar, practically shoving her big boobs right into his face.

"What can I get for you?" she asked, purring with a Southern drawl Elena instantly decided was as fake as her tan.

"Bourbon, make it a double," he smiled, oozing such an annoying charm that she momentarily questioned the whole apology notion. The bartender batted her eyelashes and continued to grin like an idiot. He turned, caught Elena scowling, and this time the amusement in his expression was not her imagination. "What do you want?"

She blinked. "Huh?"

"To drink."

"Oh. I'll um, I'll have the same," she replied, forcing her attention to the bartender who had barely spared her a glance. "Bourbon. Double."

Showering Damon with one more adoring look, the blonde sashayed away, swinging her hips with every step. Before Elena had a chance to enjoy her absence, she was back, setting two identical drinks in front of them. Mercifully, another patron was leaning over the bar, vying for her attention and her further attempts to flirt were thwarted as she made her way to the other end.

Elena nursed her drink as Polite Damon quietly sat by her side. Three days was plenty of time to come up with an apology and while she thought she'd rehearsed a good one, now faced with the opportunity, her nerves spiked. Downing half the bourbon in her glass, she turned in her chair, speaking before she lost what little nerve she had.

"Damon, I'm sorry," she said, calling to mind the past three days of guilt. "I'm sorry for the way I went off on you about Landis and that girl. I was scared…terrified, actually…and I lashed out at you. It wasn't fair. I…I'm _grateful_ that you kept me safe - ."

"Elena-."

"I'm not finished," she cut him off, leaning closer and desperately wishing he'd offer her more than just his profile. "I know what you think I meant when I said I wished Stefan hadn't given himself over to Klaus, but you're wrong. Damon, I don't…" she paused, blinking away the tears that had suddenly filled her eyes. "I couldn't handle it if you died. Not even to get Stefan back."

Damon was silent, staring at the amber liquid in his glass for a long moment before casually taking a drink. Finally, he turned, looking her directly in the eye. "Okay."

Elena blinked, her heart sinking with disappointment. "'_Okay?'_ That's it? That's all you can say?"

"What do you want me to say?" he shrugged, leaning against the bar and pitching his voice low. "Okay, Elena. Apology accepted."

"No, Damon, you don't understand," she insisted, wondering why this conversation had gone so much better when she'd rehearsed it in her head.

"Oh, but I do. I believe you're sorry. I believe you mean every word of that really nice speech. And I accept it, but it doesn't change anything. It doesn't change the fact that it will happen again or the way you feel," he explained, rolling his eyes as he finished his drink. "God, do I understand _that_. This is my fault. I'm the one who keeps forgetting."

"Forgetting what?"

"My role in all this. That I will never be Stefan," he replied definitively, showing the first hint of real emotion she'd seen since the fight. "He's the golden boy, the one that gets a free pass. I'm the bad guy, Elena. I'm the one who says what nobody wants to hear, does what nobody wants to do and takes the blame for it later, all so you can go on living in your perfect black and white world."

"Damon," Elena said, secretly relieved when he kept on talking.

"And I'm not going to apologize for it," he continued, allowing more of his anger and defeat to rise to the surface. "I will _gladly _be the bad guy if it means keeping you alive to hate me another day. Now, if you'll excuse me, this music sucks."

Damon stalked to the jukebox, cursing himself with every step. For three days he'd maintained radio silence and focused on Stefan, only to spill his guts after one measly drink on their first night off. The bourbon wasn't even that good. _God, he was pathetic. _

Glaring at the appalling record collection, he fought with his own weak will. He could feel his resolve weakening, back into the fantasy where everything Elena had just said to him was true. Her apology was already the most heartfelt he'd ever received. Sure, she'd completely missed the point, but she meant every word. That had to count for something.

"You deserve everything you get, you love sick asshole," he muttered, picturing his immediate future in perfect detail. He would cave and everything would go back to the way it had been. Then inevitably something would happen, he'd disappoint her and she'd let him know in the most painfully cutting way possible and like the pathetic loser he was, he'd be wrecked all over again. The jukebox changed records and the opening riff of Def Leppard's _Love Bites _spilled from the speakers. Damon sneered. "You got that right."

From her seat back at the bar, Elena stared, dumbfounded, at Damon as he stood with his arms braced on the ancient machine, stretching his black shirt taut across his back and highlighting the tense set of his shoulders. _Wow. _Three days and she hadn't even come close to fixing the real damage she'd done.

Damon was right, though, and deep down, trapped beneath layers of denial and fear, she knew it.

Running her fingers through her hair, Elena propped her head in her hands, fighting tears. Her mind desperately raced for the magic answer, the perfect thing to say that would bring back the real Damon Salvatore. The one she could count on to sneer and snark at her, to fight with her rather than patiently accept all the awful things she threw at him. She wasn't sure how long she sat like that, her hair falling around her shoulders like a dark curtain protecting her from the rest of the world, trying to convince herself that the horrible feelings of déjà vu weren't real – that she wasn't about to lose him again like she almost had that night when everything had changed.

"Someone put an entire roll of quarters in that thing," Damon muttered, returning to his seat. Elena felt the air shift beside her, and took some measure of comfort in the fact that he'd come back. "We're stuck with this crap."

"I know the world can't be black and white," Elena said without thinking, as the familiar strains of a classic rock song spilled from the speakers.

"What?"

Swallowing the emotion threatening to choke her, she struggled for the right words. "You're right, Damon. About all of it. _I _condemn you. _I_ get scared and I lash out and I use you as a punching bag, all because…because it scares me that my world is getting more and more grey. I thought I knew who I was, but the truth is…we're the same. Stefan has – _had_ – lines he wouldn't cross, but there is no limit to the things I will do to protect the people I love. And I'm sorry it took me until now to admit that."

"Elena, don't do this to yourself," Damon said, signaling the bartender for another drink, not quite emotionless, but close enough to make hopeless tears flood her eyes as her voice got lost in the lump in her throat. Doing her the courtesy of looking at her at least, he continued. "You love Stefan, you don't have to apologize for that."

"I'm not," she insisted, marveling at the steadiness of her voice. Waiting as the annoying bartender deposited his drink, Elena reached toward him, closing her hand over his lower arm. She was willing to use any means necessary to make him listen, make him understand. "What I'm apologizing for is making you think I want you to _be_ him. I don't, Damon. I want you to be _you_."

Damon froze, focusing on the heat of her fingers on his bare arm. _I want you to be you. _The bold statement rolled through his brain, getting tangled in what she'd said to him when he was dying. _I like you now, just the way you are. _He'd appreciated the sentiment, even if he'd chalked it up to the moment, like the kiss – a gift to a dying man.

This was different. Nobody was dying, nobody was drunk and for once, Elena's apology didn't come with conditions. The tears in her eyes, the desperation in her voice, were as genuine as her words and they connected with Damon at the deepest level. Nobody had _ever _said that to him, let alone Elena. They may be doomed to repeat this same cycle over and over again, but he'd been wrong. She did understand.

Decision made, a weight lifted off Damon's chest as he turned, finally looking at her. Wiping away a single tear that had escaped her fragile control, Elena swallowed and met his gaze. "I want the real Damon back. I miss him. And I need him. I need you… to make the tough decisions, and point out my hypocritical bullshit and just _be _here, be solid like…like…"

"Like a rock?" he offered, raising a brow.

Elena frowned, completely thrown. "What?"

"I was strong as I could be," he continued, taking greater pleasure in teasing her because it had been far too long since he had.

"Okay…"

"Nothing ever got to me," he quoted, taking a sip of bourbon and watching her out of the corner of his eye as he waited for her to recognize the familiar strains of the cheesy Bob Segar tune emanating from the hidden speakers.

"Damon what are you…" she began, her eyes widening as he gestured toward the ceiling, the melody and lyrics finally breaking through her desperate, emotional fog. She blushed, her jaw dropping only to smack him a second later, fighting a grin. "Oh, my god, you _jerk_. Way to ruin the moment. Here I am pouring my heart out and everything."

Damon held up his hands, fending off her attack as he snickered. "Hey, you're the one comparing me to a Chevy truck."

"Whatever," she sniffed, crossing her arms and biting her lip as she asked almost fearfully. "Are we…are we okay?"

Damon considered her for a moment, taking in the hope in those wide brown eyes and knowing he'd been fighting a pointless battle. Regardless of what happened, he'd always end up falling in, willing to give her whatever she wanted. Finally, he nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, we're good."

"Thank you," she whispered, closing her eyes with a relief so palpable he felt it coming off of her in waves.

Shaking his head, Damon drained his glass, wondering if there was a bigger sap than him in the entire city of Savannah. Statistically speaking, he supposed there had to be, but at the moment he found it hard to fathom.

"Have you seen my cell phone?" Elena asked suddenly, patting her pockets and searching the floor.

Damon shrugged. "No."

"Crap. I must have left it in the car," she muttered, hopping off the barstool and turning toward the entrance. She stopped him as he rose to follow, her lips curving in an indulgent smile. "Damon, I'm seventeen, not seven. I can make it to the car and back by myself, I promise."

"Just remember, 'stranger danger'," he called after her, his eyes drifting automatically to the feminine sway of her hips as she slipped through the door. Forget being a sap, he'd challenge any guy to watch Elena Gilbert walk away and not feel like their entire world went with her.

Sipping his drink slowly and actually enjoying it now that he wasn't expending all his energy on keeping Elena at arm's length, he turned his thoughts to the reason they were in Savannah. There had to be a way to break through the wall of silence surrounding Klaus, he just needed to find the right weak link. As soon as they did that, the real question was still _what_ to do with the Original whenthey found him, and how to keep Elena out of the line of fire as they did it.

Suddenly, Damon froze, letting his gaze drift to the empty barstool next to him. _Elena._ Although she hadn't been gone more than a few minutes, a feeling of dread overtook him as he peered through the tinted windows of the bar to the motel parking lot across the street. The back corner of the Camaro was barely visible and there was no sign of Elena.

The dread became a certainty as his logical brain tried to argue with his instincts. "Shit." Damon stood, nearly knocking the bar stool over in his haste. He tossed some money down for the drinks and ran out into the night. He blurred across the street, not caring if anybody saw him utilize his supernatural speed. Panic set in as he reached the Camaro and saw Elena's cell phone, lying in two pieces on the ground.

She was gone.

* * *

><p><em>AN: This is the second half of the conversation I really, really want to see on the show...and probably won't. ;p Also, for the record, I don't hate Elena. LOL She's just got some growing up to do...can't wait to hear what you think! I hope you enjoyed!<em>


	12. Bringing Home The Beacon

Chapter Twelve – Bringing Home The Beacon

Elena would never call Damon overprotective again.

It was just her dumb luck that after surviving The Crossroads and Landis, she'd be kidnapped in a motel parking lot. One moment she'd been searching beneath the seats of the Camaro for her cell phone, the next, a hand had clamped over her mouth and she'd been pulled from the car before she had been able to draw a breath to scream. Twenty minutes later as her captor dumped her on the ground at the end of a dark alley, her fear and panic at being kidnapped had been replaced by a mix of surprise, relief and dread upon realizing who'd taken her.

Stefan.

For weeks Elena had prepared herself for the moment when she'd be reunited with her boyfriend. She hadn't expected it to be pretty. Time hadn't erased the memories of what had happened during the Miss Mystic Falls pageant and she'd braced herself for his inevitable confusion and violence. She'd fancied herself as the calm in his storm, her love and patience a beacon that would guide him back to his true self.

She'd been a fool.

Staring at him now as he talked quietly with another vampire a few feet away, Elena didn't see the man she'd fallen in love with nor the lost and unhinged creature she'd been expecting to find. This Stefan was calm and in control. If he was still in the throes of the bloodlust, he'd reached a level not even Damon's warnings or the trail of dead girls had adequately prepared her for.

"Stefan," she said as he finished his conversation and the other vampire melted into the shadows. Her voice came out a weak croak, but bloodlust or not, she refused to believe she had anything to fear from him. Swallowing, she tried again. "Stefan, we've been looking for you. I've been so worried."

Cocking his head, Stefan strolled casually toward her. Unconsciously backing away, Elena noted that even his walk was different. It reminded her of Damon, the way he'd been when he first came to Mystic Falls - calculating, confident and deadly. Glancing toward the mouth of the alley, she wished he'd appear like that right now so she wouldn't have to deal with Stefan alone.

Stefan continued to advance, stopping when he was mere inches away from her, and braced an arm as solid and unyielding as granite on either side of her head. Elena's heart sped faster, but she looked him in the eye. "Why did you grab me? You didn't need to _take_ me anywhere, Damon and I are here to help you."

Silently, he stared at her, taking in every inch of her face before dropping his gaze lower, intimately caressing every curve of her body with his cold black eyes. He was looking at her almost as if he'd never seen her before. The thought gave her pause. Maybe he was so far gone that he didn't even recognize her.

"S-Stefan," she said, stubbornly clinging to this new idea. Reaching for him, her fingers recoiled of their own accord, uselessly falling to her sides, but she continued. "Stefan, it's okay. It's me. It's-."

"I know who you are," he said, leaning closer, his black gaze filling her field of vision as he studied her like a specimen in a jar. "You're not _her_."

"I'm not who? What are you…," Elena trailed off, her eyes going wide as a new idea gripped her. _Katherine. _Had he grabbed her because he'd mistaken her for Katherine? It didn't make sense, but she'd been mistaken for the vampire a lot recently. She could still feel the sharp pain where Damon's fangs had pierced her throat when he'd been in the throes of the werewolf bite.

Bit by bit, she met his gaze, trying to ascertain whether or not he _wanted _her to be Katherine. Maybe he wasn't as in control as she'd thought. The lack of anything – humanity, love, compassion – in his cold, black eyes quickly overwhelmed her, putting an end to that hope. Panic began to eat away at her certainty that she had nothing to fear. Desperately, she prayed that Damon had noticed she'd been gone too long. She wanted to scream his name, knowing he'd hear her no matter what, not simply because he was a vampire, but because he was _Damon _and he'd sworn he'd never let anything happen to her.

_Damon, please, you have to find me._

Deciding to buy time, Elena tried to ignore her fear as she reached for him again, cradling his face firmly, but gently. She curved her lips into one of Katherine's patented smirks, and willed her heart to stop hammering so loudly in her chest. "How do you know I'm _not _her?"

Stefan's eyes narrowed, as he touched her hair, running his fingers through the silky strands, all the way down to the ends. When he was done, he returned to her face, tracing her brows, her nose, her lips. Elena held still, hardly daring to breathe. He lingered at her mouth, leaning in fractionally closer and she wondered for a moment if he'd kiss her. For the first time since she'd seen him at the beginning of the school year, the idea wasn't appealing and she had to force herself not to turn away.

"Katherine," he said, whispering the name like a prayer. "I sent you away. I shouldn't have."

Elena sucked in a sharp breath as her heart skipped a beat. If Stefan believed she was Katherine, he _was _lost and despite the absurdity of the situation, relief coursed through her. Stroking his face, she continued the charade. "I came back for you."

As Stefan continued his examination, her thoughts turned to Damon. By now he'd be looking for her and angry with himself for letting her go off on her own. She'd have to make him understand that this wasn't his fault, that if anything, she was to blame for not listening to him. He'd rescue her and together they'd take care of Stefan. Hope flared in her chest as she realized that their whole search might be over this very night.

Suddenly, Stefan's fangs descended, the veins around his eyes standing out sharply against his pale skin. Elena froze as his deceptively gentle fingers danced once, twice over the pulse point below her jaw, before wrapping around her throat.

"Stefan?"

His smile was contemptuous as he pinned her in place by the neck and wrapped his other hand around her wrist, pulling it away from his face. Leaning closer until his lips touched her ear, he whispered. "You're. Not. _Her_."

"Stefan, w-what are you doing?" Elena's eyes widened as he ignored her, squeezing her wrist so tightly the bones ground together. Tears filled her eyes before running down her cheeks, not only from the pain, but from the realization that he'd been toying with her all along. "Please, you're hurting me."

"Did you really think you could _pretend_ to be her?" he asked, his voice oddly gentle despite his punishing grip on her wrist. "That I wouldn't see right through it? You're not her, Elena. You're nothing compared to Katherine."

"I'm sorry, Stefan, please," she begged, fighting to stay on her feet as the pain nearly crippled her. The hope for Damon's arrival became desperation. "Please, don't do this. You don't want to do this, I know you-."

"You know nothing," he hissed, snapping her wrist without warning. Elena's mind went blank as the most intense pain she'd ever felt swept through her. The agony seemed to last forever and in the purity of that single emotion, she cried out for Damon, body and soul. Her agonized, tortured scream echoed into the night.

* * *

><p>Caroline laced her fingers on top of her head, spinning in a slow circle in the middle of the empty warehouse floor. This was the fourth town she and Tyler had explored and she'd lost track of the number of warehouses they'd broken into, hoping to find some sign of what Klaus's vampires had been guarding. Just like every time before, they'd come up with nothing to show for their efforts.<p>

"There's nothing here, Caroline," Tyler called, descending the staircase from the upper level. He shrugged as he trotted over to her. "I don't know, maybe I heard wrong."

"You didn't," Caroline assured him with a wan smile. "I heard it too. They said they had to get back to 'the warehouse'."

"Maybe it's not in Pennsylvania," he suggested, another thought Caroline had been toying with, but dismissed in light of what the vampires had inadvertently revealed.

"No, it has to be. They'd only been following us since we crossed the border from Virginia," she said, pushing out her bottom lip like a two-year old, but at the moment she really didn't care. Swinging out a booted foot, she kicked a small crate all the way to the other side of the warehouse where it splintered on impact with the cement wall. Sighing, she shoved her hands in her pockets and started heading toward the door. "Let's get out of here."

They had taken two steps outside of the warehouse when Caroline froze, her heightened senses picking up a familiar, malevolent presence. Tyler stopped by her side, frowning in concern. "What is it?"

"Katherine," Caroline said through gritted teeth as the vampire who'd made her stepped out of the darkness. With her hair a riot of dark curls around her head and clad in black leather, Katherine appeared every bit the dominating bitch Caroline knew her to be. Lifting her chin, the blond tossed her hair defiantly over her shoulder. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Looking for you," Katherine replied, sighing as though the revelation pained her. Pointing to Tyler, she amended. "Actually, you're the one I need."

"Me?" Tyler said, warily taking a step back. "What do you need me for?"

"We're not going to play your games, Katherine," Caroline said boldly, trying not to be intimidated. Although she had stood up to Katherine before, the vampire still made her nervous. "Tell us what you want so we can say no and you can go away."

"You might want to rethink that," Katherine said, smiling her slow predator's smile. "I know where the warehouse is…and I know what's in it."

"You're lying," Caroline scoffed, daring to advance a few steps. "We've searched every warehouse in the area and we haven't found a thing. Why should we believe you?"

Katherine rolled her eyes, pursing her lips in annoyance. _This is why I work alone, _she thought, her instincts telling her to forget Vampire Barbie and Scooby Doo and take care of her errand on her own. "You shouldn't, but we're on the same side for once. I hate Klaus and I want Stefan as far away from him as possible. If that means I have to work with…you two, then so be it."

Eyeing Tyler uneasily, Caroline asked. "Why do you need Tyler?"

"It would be easier if I just showed you," Katherine said, adjusting the messenger bag she had slung across her shoulders. "It's not far. We can walk."

Tyler shrugged and took Caroline's arm, speaking softly out of habit. "She saved Damon, right? Maybe she's legit."

"You can't trust Katherine. Ever," Caroline disagreed, shooting a venomous glare in her direction. Katherine sighed, tapping her foot on the pavement. "But when it comes to Stefan…well, she's probably not lying."

"We're wasting time," Katherine said, losing patience. "Look, call Damon if you need permission."

"I don't need Damon to tell me what to do," Caroline shot back. "Lead the way."

The warehouses Tyler and Caroline had just vandalized were on the edge of town, less than a mile from a wild and untamed forest. Katherine headed toward it, reminding herself to take it slow as Tyler would never be able to keep up with her natural speed. The fact that they'd left this small, dying border town for last, arriving the same night she did, was nothing but dumb luck.

Reaching the tree line, she paused, glancing over her shoulder as she waited for Caroline and Tyler to catch up. Slipping into the forest, thick underbrush grabbed at her black jeans, but she moved with the grace of a nocturnal predator, her spiky heels barely sinking into the soft, loamy soil.

Another mile in, the ground began to rise, growing rocky as they ventured deeper. Katherine expected her unwilling companions to question her, but they trudged on silently, following her at a distance that revealed how much she intimidated them. _Good, _she thought, _let them be nervous. _Scaring them preserved some of her dignity in light of the fact that she was essentially running errands at Stefan's behest.

Finally, they reached a clearing where the trees spaced out and the ground shot up, forming a cliff that stretched one hundred feet above. Katherine stopped twenty paces away from the mouth of a cave, pointing. "Here we are. The warehouse."

Caroline looked at her, brows furrowed. "This is a cave."

"Very good."

"A cave is not a warehouse."

Katherine sighed, thinking of the ways Stefan owed her for this. Then she smiled, as various ideas sprung to mind on how he could make it up to her. "That astute assessment aside, this is the place Stefan told me about."

"How can you be sure?" Tyler asked, although with less distrust than Caroline, gesturing toward the surrounding landscape. "I mean, one cave in the forest kind of looks like the next one."

"Stefan's directions were precise," Katherine explained as a new sound emanated from within the cave. Shifting nervously, she took a few steps back even though she knew the beast within couldn't reach her. "And then there's that."

Glowing amber eyes appeared first, floating in the black for a moment before the animal leapt at them from the shadows. Tyler and Caroline cried out in surprise, while Katherine held her ground, swallowing as a thick silver collar and chain around its neck halted its progress a few feet from where they stood. Snarling and snapping its jaws, the wolf continued its futile lunging.

"That's…that's a werewolf," Tyler declared, staring in shock.

"But it can't be," Caroline protested, staring accusingly at the waning moon. "It's not a full moon."

"And yet…" Katherine shrugged, gesturing toward the supernatural creature and ignoring the instincts of self-preservation urging her to run. "Do you see the collar? I haven't gotten close enough to check, but I'm guessing that's silver. Klaus probably trapped it on a full moon and found a way to keep it from changing back. It's the perfect guard dog, really. Humans would run away and any vampire who thought they could get the best of it would die."

"What's he guarding?" Tyler demanded, appalled at the treatment of one of his own. "What's so important?"

Katherine tore her gaze away from the werewolf, addressing her reluctant accomplices. "Elijah. He's in the cave. And we need to find a way to get him out."

* * *

><p>Leaning against the Camaro, Damon lost track of how long he stood there, staring at the pieces of Elena's broken phone as if they might suddenly present a clue to her whereabouts. If ever there was a time for him to reign in his emotions and flip the switch to shut them off, this was it, but he couldn't. Elena was gone, <em>taken<em> by someone or something, and he had no one to blame but himself. Closing his eyes, he fought through panic for some semblance of control, but his mind kept circling the same questions. Who had taken her? Why? How could he have been so stupid? He'd let his guard down, and disaster had struck. For a few horrible moments, he considered his future without her and nearly drowned as a vast eternity of nothingness stretched out before him.

"No," he whispered, swearing not to let that happen. Surveying the parking lot, he methodically tried to search for any trace of her. He would find her, make sure she was okay and then show whomever had the audacity to _touch _her – vampire, human or otherwise – exactly what he did to fools who tried to hurt what was his. And Elena _was_ his, belonging to him in every way that mattered at the moment. She was his to protect, his to save, and he'd be damned if he'd let anybody take her from him. If the feelings he had for her were good for anything, then all he needed was a sign - the smallest hint - and he knew he could find her.

Utilizing the full extent of his heightened senses for the first time in years, Damon closed his eyes again and sifted through the sounds and smells of human existence surrounding him. There was no tangible connection between them, but he knew Elena, could recognize the sound of her heartbeat in a crowded room or the specific way her perfume smelled against her skin. He doubted even Stefan knew her as well as he did as he stretched his perception further and further away.

He found it lingering on the very edge of his reach, a heartbeat uniquely Elena's along with the faintest trace of her scent, both laced with fear. His eyes flew open and he was running a split second before he heard her scream. To humans the sound would have gone unnoticed, but to Damon's hyper-sensitive ears, it sounded like a cry of anguish ripped from the most tortured of souls.

He ran without heed, blurring by people and buildings as Elena's screams grew louder and more desperate. Arriving at the end of a block, he took an automatic right and almost passed the alley in which she was trapped. Coming up short, his desperation and focus were momentarily silenced by the shock of what he saw.

"Stefan," he whispered, freezing in place at the mouth of the alley. The object of their quest, the man they'd been searching for, was standing not twenty feet away from him, holding Elena in his arms and smirking at Damon's dumbfounded expression. Though it was obvious now, the thought that his brother had taken her hadn't crossed his mind.

"Damon!" she cried, smiling through the tears running down her cheeks. A burst of outrage swept through him, bringing an end to his momentary paralysis. The fact that she was relieved to see him answered every doubt he might have had regarding Stefan's role in her disappearance. Furiously, he stalked toward them. High on human blood or not, there was no way his brother could overpower him. "Let her go, Stefan."

Halfway down the alley, a body launched itself at him from behind a dumpster, hitting him in the stomach and sending him flying into the wall. The red bricks cracked at the force of the collision as dust momentarily blinded him.

"No, please!" Elena screamed, but Stefan clamped a hand over her mouth.

"Just watch," he ordered.

Years of instinct proved Damon's ally as he shoved off his assailant and blinked the dust out of his eyes. His vision cleared seconds before the vampire came at him again, swinging with a wild punch that Damon managed to block easily. Looking like a reject from _Rebel Without a Cause_ the vampire recovered, grabbing a broken piece of a wooden packing crate and wielding it like a switchblade. With surprising speed, he lunged at Damon and for a few precious minutes, his focus was on something other than Elena.

The vampire fought well, but Damon was older, stronger. Aside from the element of surprise, the vampire had no advantage and soon his youth proved his weakness. Damon overpowered him, backing him into the alley wall and, using his superior strength to get control of the makeshift stake, drove it into his heart. Breathing heavily, he watched the rapidly decaying vampire slump to the ground. His arm ached where the stake had ripped through it and a deep cut over his eye was still bleeding, but he ignored his injuries, knowing they'd be gone within minutes. Elena was the only thing that mattered.

"Stefan just…just let her go," Damon faced his brother, struggling not to simply run at him and grind him into dust. Stefan's eyes were empty holes, lacking the slightest hint of humanity in their black depths. Catching Elena's eye, he promised. "You're going to be okay."

"I'm surprised you're here, brother," Stefan said with a knowing smirk, gripping Elena by the throat as he dragged a finger down her face and drew blood. Inhaling the scent, he sneered. "This was your chance to finally take her from me. I know that's what you want. What you've always wanted."

"Keep it up, Stefan, and it's not going to matter what I want," Damon taunted, unable to look away from the blood running down Elena's cheek. "How much do you think you can hurt her without pushing her away forever?"

"Forever?" Stefan laughed. "She forgave _you_. For Caroline, Isobel, Jeremy…how many times did you force her to drink your blood, Damon? If you can come back from that and have her calling out your name, _begging _for you to save her, I don't think I'm going to have a problem."

"Stefan, please," Elena cried, finding her voice as she clutched at his hand. "Please, it's not too late, we still want to help you."

Growling with a primal rage, Stefan shook Elena, turning her around and hissing in her face. "I don't want your help!"

Grabbing her with both arms, he used his full strength to toss her aside. Elena didn't even have time to scream as she flew through the air, colliding with the brick wall six feet above the ground and hitting the unforgiving metal dumpster on her way to the dirty pavement. Damon had Stefan against the wall, stake in hand, before she landed.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you now," he demanded, seething with a bloodlust of his own. He understood delusion - only weeks ago he'd been trapped in the past by the werewolf toxin slowly poisoning him - but even then he'd been able to fight it, to stop himself from hurting Elena. How could Stefan claim to love her and toss her aside like trash? "Because at the moment I'd like nothing more than to stake you and be done with it."

"She still wouldn't love you," Stefan laughed, eyeing the sharp stake with curiosity rather than fear. "She'll never love you, Damon. Just like Katherine."

Although the taunt was nothing he hadn't heard before, and even though he knew Elena needed him, his control snapped. Rage from one hundred and fifty years of watching his younger brother get everything he'd ever wanted without lifting a finger took over, and Damon drew back his hand, plunging the stake toward Stefan's heart. Stefan caught his wrist as the stake pierced his skin and Damon took a small measure of satisfaction in watching his brother lose at least one battle. He would always be older, always just the smallest bit stronger. Stefan may have buried his humanity, but when it came to Elena, Damon was more ruthless than Klaus himself.

"Damon."

Elena's soft cry broke through his anger and he glanced over his shoulder. Lifting her head so the protective curtain of her dark hair fell away from her face, her eyes immediately sought his. Agony cut through him as he took in the damage Stefan had caused. Her cheek was streaked with blood and dirt where he'd cut it, mixing with the tears still streaming down her face. Judging by the awkward angle that she held her right wrist, it was obviously broken. Something like relief shone through her tear-filled eyes as she held his gaze. The corners of her lips curved slightly. "I knew you'd come."

Stefan took advantage of his momentary distraction, breaking free of Damon's hold and blurring to the mouth of the alley as Elena's body convulsed into giant, wracking coughs. Immediately, Damon rushed to her side.

"Take her back to Mystic Falls and forget about me, Damon," Stefan growled, backing slowly into the darkness. "I'm not going back."

Damon ignored him, letting him disappear into the night. Elena could hate him for it later, but if he never saw Stefan again, it would be too soon. Her coughing fit had stopped, but it was clear from the blood dripping from her lips that a broken wrist and a few bruises were only the start of the damage.

"Elena," he breathed, tenderly touching her undamaged cheek. "Can you move?"

She didn't seem to hear him, reaching out with bloodstained fingers. "I knew if I kept him calm…you'd find me."

"Jesus," Damon swore, catching her as she collapsed against his chest. _She must be in shock. _Wrapping his arms around her, he tried to ignore how small, fragile and so very human she felt as he gripped her chin and forced her to look at him. "Elena. Hey, can you…try to focus, okay?"

Her gaze was unfocused at first, as blood continued to seep from the wound on her cheek. Groping for him with her good hand, she latched onto the collar of his shirt and squeezed her eyes shut for a long moment. When she opened them again, her eyes were clearer…and filled with pain. "It hurts, Damon…to breathe..."

He nodded, covering her hand with his own. "I know. It'll be okay. We just need to get you to a hospital."

"No," she cried shaking her head and wrapping her arm around his neck, pulling herself closer to him as if in fear that he'd let her go. "They'll ask too many questions."

"Elena-."

"Just take me…back to the motel," she gasped as another wave of pain coursed through her body. "Please, Damon. Please."

Closing his eyes and cursing the world, he knew he was helpless to resist her pleas. As he carefully scooped her into his arms, she tightened her grip on his neck, burying her face in his shoulder. Leaving the body of the desiccated vampire to rot, he didn't even scan for signs of his brother or other threats as he carried Elena's broken body out of the alley and onto the Savannah streets.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Thank you SO much for the replies to the last chapter. It was really interesting to hear your thoughts on Elena's apology. I can't wait to hear what you think of this one. <em>


	13. Thanks For Sharing

_AN: Wow. I was a little overwhelmed by the awesome response to chapter 12 - in the best way possible of course. Thank you so much! I hope you enjoy chapter 13 just as much. Can't wait to hear what you think!_

Chapter 13 – Thanks For Sharing

"So…tell me again why Elijah is so important," Tyler said as he stepped closer to the tortured and bloodthirsty werewolf. While the wolf's bite wasn't automatically lethal to him, that didn't mean it couldn't kill him. He had no idea how Katherine thought he'd be able to subdue the creature, but he couldn't argue that he was their best option. "I'd like to know what I'm risking my life for."

"Stefan thinks Elijah can shed some light on Klaus's plans," Katherine explained, for once giving them a straight answer.

"What's there to shed?" Caroline demanded, clearly unhappy with the way events were unfolding as she warily eyed Tyler and the werewolf. "Klaus is a crazy bastard who wants to create a new species. Not that difficult to figure out."

"Well, apparently, Klaus has more than one plan," Katherine retorted, annoyance dripping from every word. "This one involves killing me and someone named Liliana."

"I still don't see how that's a bad thing," Caroline shrugged, crossing her arms. "Or why Tyler should risk his life to save Elijah after he totally turned traitor on us during the sacrifice."

"I thought the point of your little field trip was to get Stefan back," Katherine challenged. "Do you have a plan for dealing with Klaus or were you just going to kidnap his new toy and hope he didn't notice?"

Caroline's bravado faltered. "Well, we…we hadn't really thought that part out yet."

Katherine raised a brow. "Shocker."

"Ladies, um…how about we have this fight later," Tyler interrupted without taking his eyes off of the beast. "I don't really care about Elijah, but this is torture. There's a human being trapped here and…I do care about that."

"Can you do it?" Katherine demanded.

"Not by myself," he admitted.

"Well, count me out," the older vampire declared, raising her hands. Tyler rolled his eyes.

"I'll help," Caroline offered, taking a few steps forward. The werewolf, who had been mesmerized by Tyler and the sameness they shared, instantly snarled, leaping at the blond vampire despite the chain around its neck.

"Stay back," Tyler insisted, holding up a hand. Although he hated the idea of putting Caroline in danger, he didn't see another option. Moving closer, until he was just on the edge of the werewolf's reach, he spoke quietly. "Caroline, I need you to get behind him, somehow."

"Okay…and do what?"

"Well…hopefully, I can keep him focused on me long enough for you to rip the collar off," Tyler explained, wincing at how weak the idea seemed when spoken aloud. "Or if that doesn't work…snap his neck."

Caroline blanched. "Tyler, that would…there's a human being in there."

"Boo hoo," Katherine mocked from the edge of the tree line.

Tyler ignored her, looking deeply into the werewolf's eyes. "I know. But I'd rather be dead than chained up like a dog by Klaus. I doubt this guy feels any different."

"Alright, if…you think so," Caroline said, leaving the decision to him, despite her own reservations. "How long do you need?"

"Let me get close enough to touch him. When I do, move fast," he said, edging nearer, hardly daring to breathe. He didn't have a clue what he was doing, but he figured the fact that the werewolf had been completely focused on him for the better part of five minutes was a good sign. When he was in wolf form, his memory and emotions were different, but they were still there. During his first change, he'd been too bewildered and alone to recognize friend from foe, but the second time had been different. He vividly recalled chasing Caroline and Matt, not seeing them as friends, but as vampire and human. Enemy and potential prey. Hopefully, the werewolf Tyler was facing now could see his true nature and recognize his own kind.

"Easy man," he spoke softly, reaching out a hand. The werewolf snapped at his fingers and Tyler paused, using every ounce of willpower not to yank it away. He continued talking, never looking away from the amber glow of the beast's eyes. "We're trying to help you. I know it doesn't make sense. I know everything in you wants to kill those vamps, but they're not here to hurt you. Believe me. Just…just hold still. Everything's gonna be okay."

The werewolf stared as Tyler crept closer, giving no indication that he understood the words of comfort, but held still when he finally made contact with a trembling hand. Stroking the coarse fur between his ears once, twice, Tyler released the breath he'd been holding and smiled. The wolf growled in response, a low, warning rumble deep in its throat. Swallowing, Tyler held his ground, reaching up with the other hand to gently hold the wolf just above the collar around its neck.

"Now, Caroline," he whispered, knowing she'd still hear. Sure enough, in seconds a blur of motion over the wolf's shoulder near the cliff caught his eye. Running at the sheer rock face, the vampire defied gravity as her momentum carried her up the wall and over to drop directly behind the werewolf. She landed with perfect precision, one leg on either side of the beast as she went for the collar without hesitation. Using all his strength, Tyler clamped his hands on either side of the creature's head as she struggled with the catch.

"I don't mean to rush you, Caroline, but any time would be great," Tyler said through gritted teeth, his arms straining against the werewolf's delayed struggles.

"It's…stuck," she cried in frustration. Using precious focus to lift her head and glare, she hissed. "Katherine, this is your stupid mission, get over here and help."

Cursing loudly, Katherine only hesitated a moment before joining them. Tyler was losing his grip as sweat broke out on his forehead and he leaned away from the werewolf's snapping jaws. Caroline leaned to his right and nodded toward the other vampire. "Take that side and pull."

For a long second, Tyler thought they were all screwed as both vampires' incredible strength seemed to fail them. The werewolf was snarling now, and a sharp pain traveled up his left arm where the wolf's snapping jaws had torn superficially through his skin. Finally, something snapped and the vampires fell to their knees beside the now free beast. The change began immediately, and for the first time Tyler witnessed the transformation for himself.

It wasn't pretty.

After a series of horrific contortions and howls of pain, the wolf disappeared, leaving a human male, roughly their age, curled naked and unconscious in the fetal position on the hard packed forest floor.

"Much better," Katherine said, rising to her feet and dusting off her pants.

"Tyler," Caroline cried, grabbing his arm. "You're hurt."

"It's fine," he said, barely noticing the pain. Even without the healing powers of a vampire, the bite was minor and he turned his attention to the unmoving boy on the ground. "What are we going to do with him?"

"While you two figure it out, I'm going to go wake up Elijah," Katherine replied, retrieving the bag she'd left lying on the ground several yards away. Making her way to the mouth of the cave, she paused and turned back to Tyler. "Don't mistake this for concern for your wellbeing, but if I were you, I'd stay out here. Elijah's going to be thirsty and he may not have enough control to take blood bags over a fresh human. Even one who happens to be a werewolf."

"Noted," Tyler said, watching as she disappeared into the dark shadows of the cave. Raising a brow, he shrugged at Caroline. "Ideas?"

"Clothes," she said, definitively. "Definitely clothes. You stay here, I'll run back to the car and get some."

Tyler chuckled, settling more comfortably on the ground. "Still creeped out by the whole naked thing, huh?"

"Yup," she grinned, already backing away. At the tree line, she paused, slowly running her gaze over his form before trailing back up to meet his eyes. She winked and it hit him low in the gut. "But I could get used to it."

* * *

><p>Damon made it back to the motel in less than three minutes, even as Elena began to lose consciousness. Blood from the wounds on her face had soaked through his shirt and her head lolled listlessly against his shoulder. Her heartbeat was slowing, her pulse erratic. Holding her broken arm close to her body, she softly moaned as he took the stairs to their second floor room. Stefan had been thorough and the damage he'd caused was extensive. There was only one option, and although Damon knew Elena would hate it, he didn't care.<p>

Twisting the doorknob, he easily broke the lock, nudging the door open with his foot as he slipped into the dark room. Though the movement must have hurt like hell, Elena barely made a sound as he laid her on one of the twin beds. He flipped the switch on the bedside lamp and light flooded the room, exposing the full extent of the damage.

"Stefan, goddammit…" Damon swore, briefly closing his eyes in an effort to reign in his emotion. There would be plenty of time to blame his brother and curse his name later – at the moment, Elena needed him to focus. Ignoring the blood caked in her hair, he brushed a strand out of her face. "Elena…can you hear me?"

Slightly leaning into his touch, her lashes lifted and she seemed to look right through him. Then she blinked, giving her head a small shake. "Damon, where are we?"

"Back at the motel," he replied, sitting by her on the bed and taking her undamaged hand, unable to stop touching her. "Elena, I need you to listen to me."

"It hurts," she said, squeezing her eyes shut and gripping his hand so tightly her nails nearly pierced his flesh. "Damon, it…everything hurts."

"I know, I know it does," he said, staring at the dark bruises forming around her throat. Blood was everywhere, staining her pink tank top and jeans, and he could only guess at the internal damage. Forget cursing Stefan, he was going to kill him. Taking her chin in his hand, he made her look at him. He wasn't asking for her permission – he'd do what he needed to do to keep her alive regardless of her wishes – but it would be easier if she didn't fight him. "Elena, you need to do something. You're not going to like it, but I need you to trust me, okay?"

Elena nodded, her brow furrowing. "I-I _do_ trust you."

Yanking back his sleeve, Damon bit into his wrist. "You have to drink."

Elena's eyes went wide as she shook her head. "Damon, no, I-I can't."

"It's the only way," he insisted, blood seeping from the punctured skin as he barely controlled the instinctual urge to thrust his wrist against her lips. "I know it scares you, but I will _not _watch you die. If you meant what you said in the bar tonight, don't make me force you…because I will."

Breathing in tortured gasps, Elena's fearful gaze shifted from his face to his wrist. Finally, she nodded and he wasted no time in pressing his wrist against her mouth. She closed her eyes, opening her mouth to taste his blood for the first time of her own free will. As the seconds passed, Damon's world narrowed to the point where her lips, soft and warm, touched his skin. He knew some vampires made a habit of exchanging blood with their prey, claiming it heightened the thrill, but he'd never understood the appeal…until now. The unfamiliar sensation was unlike any he'd experienced as he literally felt the blood being pulled from his veins. Under different circumstances, he probably would have enjoyed it.

"More," he insisted when Elena tried to turn away. He had no idea how much she needed, but too much was better than not enough. If she took his blood and died from her injuries anyway… Damon shook his head, vowing that wouldn't happen as she began to drink again. "Don't you dare die on me."

A few moments later, as her pulse steadied and the pull lessoned Damon removed his wrist and gently wiped the blood from her lips. Semi-conscious and practically drugged from the large quantity of blood she'd ingested, Elena didn't notice as the cut on her cheek stopped bleeding. Satisfied that she'd taken enough to at least make it through the night, he released the breath he'd been holding and ran a hand through his hair.

Glancing down, Damon realized Elena was still holding his hand. He stared at their entwined fingers, stained with her blood, as he considered for the first time the enormity of what had happened in the past hour. They'd found Stefan and it couldn't have gone worse. In all of his planning for the moment, he'd never considered the possibility that his brother would be so far gone, he'd be unable to distinguish Elena from the women he imagined to be her.

With a frown, he gave in to the urge to touch her undamaged cheek, rubbing his thumb over her cheekbone as he reconsidered. Stefan had immediately known him and called Elena by name. There was no way around it. For some reason, his brother had deliberately tortured her.

Spurred by a sudden need to act, Damon rose from the bed, making his way to the door to secure the inner locks. Again, he wished Bonnie were there to perform a protection spell as he flipped the deadbolt and flimsy chain into place. What passed for human security wouldn't stop Stefan for a second if he decided to return and finish the job.

Suddenly, his wrist began to throb and he blinked dumbly at the bite mark before realizing it hadn't begun to heal. Damon couldn't remember the last time he'd had a wound that didn't disappear within seconds. He covered the slowly bleeding cut with his hand as he began to notice other abnormalities. His shoulder ached where the stake had ripped through it and pain seemed to radiate from the half-healed gash over his eye.

As he continued to study the open wound, the answer became obvious. Having shared too much blood with Elena, Damon needed to feed. A daunting task considering the cooler with the blood bags he'd brought on this little excursion was gone. When the trunk had popped open during the Camaro's death spin, the cooler had flown out, getting lost in the tall grass off the gravel road in North Carolina. He'd intended to search for it before he and Elena left Landis, but the other vampire's insanity had put an end to that plan. Between hunting for Stefan and keeping an eye on Elena, there'd been no time in the past four days to replenish the supply. Scowling he shoved his sleeve back into place. "Shit. Nice going, Salvatore."

Elena stirred as the immediately stupefying effects of the blood began to recede, her gaze drawn to the agitated movements of the vampire across the room. She watched him through heavy lidded eyes as a feeling of safety settled over her. She would be okay, Damon would take care of her, he'd take care of everything. Her eyes drifted shut once again as she began to succumb to an exhausted slumber. Forgetting her injuries, she shifted slightly to get more comfortable, and instantly her body was devoured by pain.

"Damon!" Elena gasped, going rigid as every nerve ending in her body burned hotter than before. Clutching blindly at the sheets, she gritted her teeth against the sudden influx of agony.

"I'm right here," he said as the mattress shifted with his weight. Finding his hand, she clung to it like a lifeline.

"Something's wrong," she cried, unable to breathe as the epicenter of the pain traveled throughout her body. First, she felt it in her cheek, a white hot fire that endlessly burned until she thought she'd pass out before momentarily ebbing as it traveled to her arm. Her ribs were next and it lingered there as she curled into a ball. "It's worse."

"The pain?" Damon asked, gathering her writhing form within his arms and holding her still.

She nodded, biting her lip so hard it bled. Within seconds her mouth was aflame, consuming her in a white hot blaze. The only thing that kept her from completely losing her mind was the sensation of Damon's arms around her. During a momentary respite, she sucked in a deep breath, asking. "What's happening?"

"You're healing," he replied, adjusting her slightly in his arms, jostling her broken arm, but Elena barely noticed. "Sometimes it hurts more than the actual injury."

"Caroline never-."

"Caroline was jacked up on so many painkillers she could have been run over by a train and never felt a thing," Damon explained as the pain flared once again. Crying unabashedly, Elena wished for death – or at the very least to black out and not wake up until the damage Stefan had caused was fully healed. As agony ripped through her, she tried to focus on Damon – the solid pressure of his body against hers, the buttons of his shirt digging into her palm as she tightly clutched the fabric. Pressing her face into his shoulder, she took in his scent with every breath. Somehow, despite the sickly sweet smell of her own blood, she could still detect traces of his cologne.

Elena didn't know how long the pain rolled through her, cresting over and over without relief. From a million miles away, she heard herself scream, the sound muffled as she dissolved into harsh, uncontrollable sobs.

Eventually, the haze lifted enough for her to be aware of Damon's gentle touch - fingers trailing lightly through her hair. The tears subsided as she loosened her punishing grip on his arm. She thought he might have kissed the top of her head, but she forgot about it as he spoke the sweetest words she'd ever heard.

"I can take away the pain."

"What?" she croaked, her voice weak from the abuse of her tortured screams. Swallowing, she mustered what little energy she possessed and lifted her head from his chest. "How?"

"Is there still vervain in your system?" he asked, studying her intently.

Elena tried to shake her head, but it was too painful. "I don't-I don't think so."

"Then I can compel you," he said, catching her chin as shock had her trying to shake her head again despite the potential stab of agony. "You'll sleep through the pain and-."

"No," she cried, panic overtaking her common sense as she tried to push away from him. Even though she knew better, her mind went back to the haunting woman in white standing helplessly in the middle of the gravel road as Landis tortured her. Her overactive imagination turned that woman into Jenna and she relived the horrific nightmare of watching her aunt stab herself in the middle of their kitchen. Curling her good hand into a fist, she uselessly beat at his chest. "No, Damon, please…please not that. Anything but that."

"Elena, it might get worse," he warned, catching her hand. Nausea swept through her at the idea of enduring more than she already had. Dropping her head to his chest, her body trembled with exhaustion and fear. A moment later, she felt his lips brush her ear as he softly said. "You'll sleep. That's it. No tricks, no agenda. Besides, you think after all the shit I've gone through with you I'd settle for anything but the real thing?"

The sheer absurdity of flirting at a time like this cut through her near hysteria and even though it hurt, Elena laughed, turning her head just enough to catch his eye. He was so close she could count the individual eyelashes as he winked at her, easing her panic. She believed he would protect her, wouldn't let anything happen to her and more importantly wouldn't take advantage of her, and yet…she wasn't ready to confront her worst fear.

"I…can't, I'm sorry," she whispered, staring at the buttons of his black shirt. Damon said nothing and in the building silence Elena's heart sank, feeling like she'd somehow failed him. Incrementally, she returned her gaze to his face, expecting to see frustration etched in every feature. Instead, she saw compassion, his helplessness mirroring her own. A new kind of pain cut straight through her heart as she smiled. "Now you know how I felt watching you die in my arms."

"What, so this payback?" he asked, raising a brow.

"That's right," Elena agreed, latching onto the weak banter as a momentary distraction. "I got kidnapped on purpose so you'd understand why you can never do that to me again."

"I'll do my best," Damon promised as he dragged his thumb across her cheek, wiping away blood and tears. Leaning back against the pillows, he settled her against him in a way that reminded her even more of that night in his bed. Her body protested as she snuggled against him, but she ignored it, exhaustion winning out over comfort. Dozing, she heard him murmur as he took her hand. "If I thought you'd felt even a fraction of what I feel right now, I could have died happy that night."

_But I do, _she wanted to tell him as sleep pulled her further under, _more than just a fraction. _ She might have been delusional from the pain or maybe it was the way he was touching her, stroking his fingers over her skin like she was something precious, but in that moment there was no other place in the world she'd rather be than tucked safely in Damon's arms.

* * *

><p>Katherine had never been a fan of caves, but after having been trapped in the Tomb for a month, claustrophobia set in the second she turned the first corner and the last of the light from the outside disappeared. Placing a hand on the rough stone wall, she waited for the panic to pass, telling herself that Klaus had no interest in spending an eternity buried under a thousand tons of rock and would have chosen his hiding places accordingly. When she was able to move again, she dug in her bag for a flashlight. With her ability to see in the dark, she didn't need it, but the extra illumination was comforting. Following the tunnel's twists and turns, Katherine realized she was moving forward at a slight decline, not only deeper into the cave, but also lower into the earth.<p>

"Fantastic," she muttered, pushing aside a fresh wave of anxiety before she got stuck in its grip. Instead, she turned her thoughts to the much more pleasurable ways she was going to make Stefan pay her back for taking on this endeavor.

After walking for roughly five minutes, the tunnel grew wider and the blackness began to soften. Another few minutes passed and she came upon torches set high on the walls. Shutting off her flashlight to save the batteries, Katherine returned it to her bag. When the tunnel finally opened up into an unsecured and vast cavern, Klaus's confidence in his werewolf guard dog as well as the vampires Caroline and Tyler had managed to kill was as obvious as it was short-sighted.

It also made her very cautious.

"Maybe he just figured nobody would be dumb enough to take on that werewolf," she murmured, slowly circling the perimeter of the cavern. The space was outfitted like a warehouse, hence the nickname. Wooden support beams had been built from the ground up, wedged into the crevices along the walls, creating multiple levels. Katherine made a face at the thought of exploring every one of them, but soon discovered that wouldn't be necessary. Arriving at the spot directly across from the entrance, she found another tunnel, this one closed off by two large, solid looking steel doors. A heavy chain was woven through the handles, secured with a padlock the size of her fist.

"Really, Klaus? A lock and chains? Who do you think you're dealing with?" she smirked, reaching for the padlock. The second her fingers came into contact with the metal, she gasped in pain as vervain burned her skin. Snatching her hand away, she cursed and backed up a few steps. "Son of a bitch!"

Shaking away the pain in her quickly healing hands, she paced in front of the door. "I should have brought a witch," she muttered, throwing a scathing glance at the steel barrier. Although, she'd built up a tolerance to vervain in an effort to avoid compulsion, she wasn't immune to its physical effects. Eyeing the chains, she figured she could break them apart before the vervain burned her skin down to the bone…unless they were spelled. "Shit."

Huffing in frustration, she stopped right in front of the door, looking away down the side of the wall she hadn't walked by. Another door caught her eye, blending inconspicuously into the rocky wall and kept secured by a simple wooden two-by-four. Katherine walked closer, stopping halfway between the two doors and shifting her gaze from one to the other.

"If I were Klaus…" she narrowed her eyes, slowly approaching the presumably less important door. Reaching out with one finger, she touched the wood, half expecting another flare of searing pain, but nothing happened. Smirking, she slipped that finger beneath the two-by-four and lifted it easily from the braces, stepping back as it clattered to the floor. "I would hide my most important secrets in plain sight."

Without the two-by-four to keep it closed, the door swung open, revealing a dark cavern within. Leaving the flashlight in her bag, Katherine stepped into the blackness, allowing her eyes to adjust. A single coffin stood in the middle of the room, raised from the ground on a wheeled cart. Leery of any more tricks, she ventured closer carefully, running her hand lightly over the closed lid until she was confident she could touch it without harm. Before she could second guess her actions, she raised the lid.

"Well, hello, Elijah," she said, taking in his desiccated features and the white ash dagger protruding from his chest. Pushing the lid all the way up, she gripped the edge of the coffin and studied him. "Stefan seems to think you can help. I hope he's right."

Digging into her bag, Katherine retrieved the three blood bags she'd brought and set them on the closed half of the lid. She stared at Elijah for another moment before shaking her head and wrapping both hands around the dagger. Pulling it free took more effort than she'd expected, but with a dry sucking sound it finally came loose. Stowing the weapon in her bag, she stepped back and waited for the Original to rejoin the land of the almost living.

* * *

><p>Returning slowly to consciousness, Elena opened her eyes to a silent motel room. Instead of feeling pain, her body was blissfully numb as she watched the soft light from the beside lamp glint off of Damon's ring. His hand covered hers, holding it against his chest and as the fog of sleep fully receded, she was struck by an overwhelming sensation of déjà vu. Shifting just enough to take in his sleeping profile, it was like that night in his bedroom all over again, only this time she was the one slipping in and out of consciousness.<p>

Damon's head was turned slightly toward her and she studied his features, her gaze eventually drifting to his mouth. There was still so much that had been left unsaid about that night and what it meant – at least what it had meant to her. Watching him physically suffer had been one of the most unexpectedly difficult things Elena had ever been forced to do. None of them were strangers to emotional agony, but the physical wasn't supposed to touch him. Not Damon Salvatore, immortal vampire and eternal thorn in her side. She hadn't been prepared for the mere idea of his death to rip a hole through her heart and expose the truth buried within.

Damon had been right all along. There _was _more between them than just an _understanding_. She had denied it because to admit that she could have _something _with Damon when it was always supposed to be Stefan meant taking another step into the grey. The kiss hadn't been driven by simple pity or compassion, but by a need to acknowledge the pain all her denial had cost him.

She'd planned to confess the instant that they had parted, but Damon had barely been conscious and then Katherine had arrived and suddenly the simplicity of the moment had vanished. The truth had become messy and complicated and unfair and Elena hadn't been able to decide whether his right to know outweighed the pain it might cause. One thing had led to another and suddenly it was weeks later, she might be dying and he still didn't know.

Closing her eyes, Elena tried to organize her muddled thoughts. Every catastrophe they had faced had driven her and Stefan further away from their idyllic love. There was still too much to process about the events that had led them to this moment, but of one thing she was absolutely certain – Damon was so much more than the guy who could make the tough choices. While she'd been using lies and fantasy to preserve her perfect love with Stefan, she'd relied on Damon for the truth. He was the guy who made her laugh, who never let her give up, who made her feel safe and at peace even in the face of failure and death. The feelings she'd revealed to him in the bar had barely scratched the surface of what he really meant to her and it was time she was completely honest – with both of them.

Opening her eyes, Elena squeezed his hand. "Damon."

Instantly, he was awake and alert in a way that made her wonder if he'd ever been asleep at all. He studied her intently before asking. "How do you feel?"

"Kind of numb," she admitted, drinking in the blue of his eyes. They were so close, she couldn't see much else. Licking her lips, she searched for the best place to begin. "There's something I need to tell you. About the kiss."

"What kiss?" he asked, frowning.

"Damon, I…" she gasped as suddenly, a fresh wave of agony swept through her body, so intense she couldn't even draw breath. Damon's arms locked around her, holding her still as she convulsed in an effort to escape the inevitable. Racing through her veins, the pain consumed her from the inside out, a thousand times worse than before, leaving her sobbing and shaking an eternity later when it ebbed enough to let her form a coherent thought.

"Elena," Damon exclaimed, alarm lacing his tone. Before she could speak, the pain began again and she turned her face into his shoulder to muffle her screams. Thoughts of their kiss, of what she'd been about to confess and what he might have thought about it, disappeared as she begged and prayed for a respite from the torture. Over and over, the cycle repeated itself, withdrawing long enough for her to draw a full breath, to stay conscious, before pulling her back into the abyss.

"I can't take this," she choked, during one of the brief lulls. Her head was pounding, her muscles ached and she couldn't catch her breath as she clung to Damon like an anchor. Salty tears burned the cut on her cheek as she lifted her head and met his searching gaze. Licking her chapped lips, she swallowed the lump of apprehension in her throat and begged. "Do what you have to do. Compel me. Just, please, make it stop."

Mercifully, Damon didn't have to be told twice, shifting her higher in his arms so she could look him in the eye. Elena whimpered, but otherwise kept silent. Brushing her hair off her sweaty and tearstained face, his voice was firm as he once again took her chin in hand and held her steady. "Look at me."

Ignoring the sharp slice of panic making her stomach churn, Elena acquiesced. Within seconds, she was lost in the icy blue of his eyes and he hadn't even spoken a word.

"Until the pain is gone, I want you to sleep," he began, but the rest of his words were swept away as a peaceful fog descended over her. Her eyes fluttered and eventually closed, her body relaxing against his. With her last moments of consciousness, she searched blindly for his hand, gripping it tightly before slipping into oblivion.


	14. Resurrection

_AN: My beta has encouraged me to let you know, now that the show has started again, that I've had this whole thing plotted out since July. Reading the rumors/spoilers I've been...surprised by certain similarities between where the show is going - or could go - and my little fantasies. _

_Also, thank you for the awesome replies and for sticking with my thus far. I know my pace is probably killing you, but I promise the payoff I'm guessing you're waiting for is coming. Like, in a matter of chapters. So, once again thank you and I can't wait to hear what you think about this chapter! _

Chapter 14 - Resurrection

Katherine paced the small, dark chamber, trying to ignore the way the walls seemed to be closing in on her. Half an hour had passed since she'd pulled the white ash dagger from Elijah's chest and he still hadn't moved so much as an eyelid. She was growing impatient waiting for the mystical weapon's effects to wear off as her thoughts continued to circle back to Stefan.

Digging through her bag, she retrieved her cell phone, holding it up toward the roof of the cave in a fruitless attempt to find a signal. Something was telling her to call and check in and after five hundred years, Katherine had learned not to ignore her instincts. Scowling at the 'no service' light blinking across her small screen, she dropped her phone back in the bag and glared at Elijah.

"Come on, Sleeping Beauty, wake up already," she huffed in annoyance as the Original continued to lie there unmoving. Pacing again, she tried to shove aside the nagging dread about Stefan, but something had happened, she could feel it in every fiber of her being. Leaving him in Savannah, half-crazed by bloodlust and at Klaus's mercy, had been a huge mistake. Running a hand through her hair, she stalked back to the coffin and grabbed the blood bags from the lid, shoving them back in her bag. Curling her fingers around the edge of the open box, she prepared to shove it to the floor. "Dammit, Elijah, wake up!"

Her eyes widened and she backed away as the Original stirred. His lips as he took in a huge breath, making his entire body seem to expand. Normal, human color returned to his skin, albeit a bit more pale than usual. What took nearly an hour to begin was over in a matter of seconds as Elijah turned and stared at her, blinking in the dim light.

"Katherine," he said carefully, after studying her for a long moment. Glancing at the box he was lying in, he grimaced and struggled to a seated position. "This is…rather awkward."

"And anti-climatic," Katherine grumbled, quickly recovering from her shock. She backed away further, careful to keep a certain amount of distance between herself and the Original. Now that he was awake and capable of compulsion, she didn't want to get too close. Elijah lifted the other half of the lid, gracefully climbing to the floor, brushing wrinkles out of his suit before eyeing the hole in his shirt distastefully. Katherine raised a skeptical brow. "All that waiting and I thought I'd at least get to see you with a hair out of place or something. Aren't you even thirsty?"

"Immeasurably," the Original assured her, accepting the blood bag she tossed to him and ripping into it in his usual refined way.

"I would have brought you something a little more _lively_," she apologized as he methodically consumed all three bags. "But getting past Klaus's guard-wolf was more time consuming than I had anticipated."

"Considering my predicament at the time, it's really not my place to be picky," Elijah said, taking two steps toward her. Automatically, Katherine backed up and the Original paused as disappointment flickered in his eyes. "I'm pleased to see that you escaped my brother's clutches. I imagine restoring me to life carried an innumerable amount of risks, so I thank you…for doing it anyway. Rest assured, I won't forget the favor."

"You're welcome," Katherine said, willing herself to relax despite being in a very small space with one of the few things she actually feared. For the most part, however, Elijah was a man of his word and since she needed him to help free Stefan, she focused on that. "Why don't we get out of here? Caves really aren't my thing."

"Is that where we are?" Elijah mused, gesturing for her to lead the way into the larger chamber. As she quickly led the way through the warehouse into the tunnel, he asked. "How did you find me?"

"Stefan told me where to look," Katherine replied, retrieving the flashlight from her bag the second they neared the end of the torches lining the walls.

"Stefan?"

"A lot has happened since Klaus used the dagger on you," she sighed, filling him in on the details of Stefan's deal with the other Original to help create a new race of hybrids in exchange for saving Damon's life. "If I hadn't decided to let Stefan catch me after all these years…I wouldn't have even tried to look for you."

"Remind me to thank Mr. Salvatore for inspiring you," Elijah replied dryly. Near the mouth of the cave, he stopped her, lightly grabbing her arm and pulling her to a halt. He looked her over from top to bottom, eyeing her critically. "You love him, don't you."

It wasn't a question and she wasn't compelled, but Katherine found herself answering anyway. Swallowing, she nodded. "Yes."

Elijah smiled, touching her cheek. "Good. That's good. I would hate to think that what my brother and I did to you killed Katerina Petrova completely."

Completely blindsided, Katherine blinked as he turned away, stepping out of the cave and into the fresh night air. Memories she thought she'd buried long ago – memories of the girl she'd been and the dreams that had died the night she hung herself in Rose's cottage – rose to the surface, bringing tears to her eyes. It was the second time in as many weeks that she'd thought about the girl she used to be.

After a fierce struggle, she reigned in her emotions. Kind gesture aside, now was not the time to fall apart over someone she'd never be again. Stefan was all that mattered now and she kept him at the forefront of her mind as she followed Elijah into the clearing.

"Elijah, I haven't told you everything," Katherine explained, absently noting that Caroline, Tyler and their new pet had heeded her words and disappeared. The Original raised a brow and politely waited as she closed the distance between them. "I didn't set you free out of the goodness of my heart…or Stefan's."

"I expected as much," Elijah admitted, standing unnervingly still as he studied her. "You need my help."

"Hybrids aren't Klaus's only plan," she agreed with a nod. "He's planning on killing me and someone named Liliana in another ritual. Stefan thought you might be able to fill in the blanks. That's why he sent me."

Elijah stared at her for a moment before pacing away and staring at the starry sky. He spoke softly, the single word carried on the breeze to where she stood. "Liliana."

Katherine sensed the sadness, the regret in every syllable of the whispered name, but even if she'd been in the business of coddling his feelings, there wasn't time. "Do you know her?"

"Yes, but I'm afraid I don't know why my brother is planning her death," he said, turning around and clasping his fingers in the closest thing she'd ever seen to an Original fidgeting. "You see it's quite impossible. Liliana…is already dead. She's been dead for over a thousand years."

"What?" Katherine gasped in shock. "How do you know?"

"Because I was there when she died. She's my sister," Elijah revealed, his eyes radiating sadness so deep that it almost made Katherine ache for him. "Her death brought about Klaus's curse."

"I don't understand."

"He killed her, Katherine," he said, a millennia old anger making his voice as sharp as any dagger and nearly as deadly. "Liliana was the first. The mold from which you and Ms. Gilbert were poured. And my brother, in a moment of weakness and arrogance, killed her."

* * *

><p>Bonnie clutched the steering wheel of the SUV at ten and two, staring at the white lines down the center of the freeway without seeing them. Alaric sat silently to her right while Jeremy dozed in the back seat. They'd been on the road for the past few hours and it was her turn behind the wheel.<p>

For the last two days, they'd killed time in Missouri, checking police reports in the surrounding area for more vampires who could possibly be on Klaus's payroll. Damon had called the previous night, alerting them of Stefan and The Original's presence in Savannah. For Bonnie it confirmed her suspicions that Damon had known all along where to find his brother and his insistence on heading south alone had stemmed from a desire to take care of the situation himself. While she'd never admit it out loud, she respected him for that, even understood it. Adjusting the rearview mirror, she took in Jeremy's sleeping form sprawled across the backseat. She would have kept him from coming in a heartbeat if the choice had been hers. Especially now that their mission was about to get even more dangerous.

Fixing the mirror, she returned her eyes to the road and the problem she'd been mulling over ever since they'd killed the vampires and found the ancient texts in the library. Finding Stefan was only half the battle – now they had to figure out what to do with a monster they'd already failed to kill once. The book of dark magic packed with her things in the trunk tugged at her brain, piquing her curiosity. A malevolence emanating from it that had managed to curb her curiosity thus far, but she was growing more and more certain the answers they needed lay within those crumbling pages.

"That was our exit," Alaric said, making her jump as his voice broke through her silent contemplation.

"What?"

"That last exit," he replied, shifting in the passenger seat and gesturing over his shoulder. "That's the one we need to take."

"Oh…shit," Bonnie cursed as her face grew hot. Another sign appeared in the distance, growing larger and indicating the next exit wasn't for another ten miles. Her shoulders slumped and she apologized. "Sorry. I was…distracted."

"Something on your mind?"

"Oh, just the usual," she said, smiling sheepishly. "What can I do about Klaus? How can I make sure we all live through it?"

"We're all in this together," Alaric reminder her gently. "You're not responsible for everything."

"Yeah, well…I feel like it," she admitted, staring at the road. "I mean, really, if I could just focus and channel every ounce of Power I have, we wouldn't need a plan. I could take Klaus out and Stefan would be free."

"Okay, first of all, you don't know that," he argued, frowning at her in the green glow of the dashboard lights as if she'd suddenly lost her mind. "The witches aren't exactly happy with you at the moment, right? They might not _let _you channel that much power. Not even to stop Klaus."

"I know, but-."

"But let's say they make it happen," he continued, speaking right over her attempts to protest. "Wouldn't it kill you, too? I mean, I know I was little _possessed _through a lot of the planning phases of our last attempt, but I thought I understood the gist. Use too much Power and you burn yourself out."

"I know," Bonnie sighed as déjà vu swept through her. She'd had this same conversation with Jeremy so many times. "I do, it's just…if I don't do everything I can and someone dies…I'll never forgive myself."

"It works both ways," Jeremy mumbled from the backseat, nudging the back of her seat with his foot and proving that he hadn't been sleeping as deeply as she'd thought. "You think Stefan would want to be rescued if it meant you had to die?"

"Well, then I'm open to suggestions," she exclaimed, frustration and impotence bubbling up to the surface. "I don't want to die, so please, by all means, let's come up with a plan."

Stretching, Jeremy sat up in the middle of the backseat and leaned forward. "Plans are overrated. We do our best work when we're half-assing it."

"_Jeremy_."

"What?" he asked, turning to Alaric for support. "I'm right. It's like our curse or something."

Bonnie's eyes widened as a fragment of an idea skirted through her mind and disappeared. "Wait, say that again."

"What, we're…cursed?" Jeremy asked, bewildered.

"The curse," Bonnie whispered. "Oh, my god, that's it!"

"What's it?" Alaric frowned.

"Klaus's curse," Bonnie replied, gesturing wildly as she tried to keep her eyes on the road. "The-the Sun and the Moon curse!"

"But that's all bullshit," Alaric pointed out. "Right? Didn't Elijah and Klaus make it up to find the moonstone?"

"I know the details were crap, but he _was _cursed," she insisted, her brain racing as it formulated a plan more quickly than her mouth could speak the words. "Why can't we curse him again? Only better this time. We take away both sides and make him human. Make him mortal."

The silence that descended was charged with a cautious excitement. Jeremy glanced at Alaric before narrowing his eyes at Bonnie. "Can we even do that?"

"I don't know, but at least it's _something_," Bonnie insisted, reveling in the relief coursing through her as a plan began to form. The book of dark magic called to her again and this time she didn't shy away from the pull. "And I know exactly where to start."

* * *

><p>Elena opened her eyes to the sound of running water. A thin band of light spilled from an open door, stretching across beige carpeting to an unfamiliar bed where she lay curled on her side. She stared at the light, listening to the water while trying to place her surroundings. Strangely, she felt no panic or fear and it was onto that blank slate that memories appeared.<p>

_Savannah, Damon, a motel room, Stefan, blood, pain…so much pain…_

Bracing for the agony to pull her under, Elena closed her eyes, but nothing happened. In fact, she felt better than she had in months. Strong, alive, vibrant. While she remembered the night, the sharp edged details were kept at a distance by a hazy cocoon. They'd found Stefan, or more accurately, _he'd_ found them and had left his mark on her in a way she'd never expected. Behind her closed lids, his face appeared, the sharp curve of his teeth and the soulless black pits of his eyes. Wincing at the uncomfortably clear memory, she rolled to her back and brought a hand to her head, opening her eyes in surprise as she stared at the long, black sleeves hanging past her fingertips - sleeves that belonged to a shirt that was definitely not her own.

Rising up on her elbows, Elena glanced at the empty bed next to her before warily eyeing the light from the bathroom. Her stomach flipped as she stared at the unbuttoned cuff of one of Damon's shirts and realized she wasn't wearing much else. The last she remembered, she'd been wrapped in his arms, _in her own clothes, _as he'd compelled her to sleep until her injuries healed.

Before she could wonder if something elsehad happened between her and Damon, the band of light from the bathroom widened as he pushed open the door. Lit from behind, he was little more than a dark silhouette as he paused in the doorway upon seeing her awake and alert. The shadows hid his expression, but she could feel his gaze as it traveled over every inch of her body. Elena barely noticed the scrutiny as her attention was drawn to his bare chest and the white towel slung low around his hips as more details pierced the fog around her brain.

She heard him sigh, apparently satisfied. "You're awake. It's about damn time. I was running out of excuses."

Elena openly stared as he crossed to the foot of the bed. Beads of water clung to his shoulders and his hair was damp. Licking her dry lips, her voice barely above a whisper, she asked. "E-excuses? For what?"

"Why you couldn't talk to Bonnie or Caroline or Jeremy or whomever when they called," he explained, clearly irritated as he sat next to her. His brows rose as he cast her a meaningful look. "There're only so many times I can tell them you're asleep or in the shower."

"So, they don't know…what happened?" she asked hopefully, humiliated by the idea that her friends would know what Stefan had done.

"Do _you _know what happened?" he asked, watching her carefully.

_Which part, _she wondered, _the part where Stefan threw me into a wall because I wasn't Katherine or the part where you held me and fed me your blood while I cried from the pain? _Swallowing the lump suddenly stuck in her throat, she nodded. "I remember."

"Are you okay?"

Blinking away tears, Elena considered the question. Stefan was either insane on a level she'd never even considered or he'd just broken up with her in the most literal sense imaginable. She'd woken up in a dark motel room, wearing Damon's shirt and had barely batted an eye. Now, she was having a conversation with him while he sat next to her on the bed wearing nothing but a very distracting towel. _I'm not sure what I am, but 'okay' is definitely not it. _Shaking her head, she shrugged. "I feel fine. Better than fine, actually, I feel…really good. I'm just curious about one thing."

"What's that?"

Sitting up, she glanced down at her apparel. "Where are my clothes?"

Leaning back on the mattress, Damon smirked, which did something to her insides she couldn't ignore. "Your clothes were ruined. I thought you'd be more comfortable."

"In _your _shirt?"

"It looks good on you," he said, unperturbed. "Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"More comfortable?"

Elena pursed her lips, fighting a grin as she looked down at her hands, grateful for Damon's complete disregard for, well, everything. Looking at him through her lashes, she nodded. "Yeah, I guess so."

Silence fell between them and despite the dozen or so pressing topics they could discuss, Elena enjoyed it. She was comfortable with Damon and wanted to keep it that way as long as possible. She didn't want to discuss what Stefan had done to her or their next move in the quest to find him, nor did she want to think about how good she'd felt last night as he'd held her in his arms, despite the pain.

"You know, I'm curious about something, too," Damon said, his tone light as he leaned on the mattress, bracing himself on his elbow. Flicking a glance at her, he played absently with the unbuttoned cuff of her shirt. "You were trying to tell me something before I compelled you."

_The kiss, _Elena remembered instantly, squeezing her eyes shut as panic slammed into her, breaking through the dissolving haze that had been keeping her memories of last night at arm's length. _I don't want to talk about that. _"I was?"

"Something about…a kiss."

_I don't want to talk about it,_ she thought desperately, as she let him take her hand and her fingers automatically curled around his. Lifting her head, she found him watching her with the same scrutiny he'd used when he'd first sat down. His eyes were guarded, making it impossible to guess what he'd thought she might have been ready to tell him. It was too late, however, the moment had been ruined.

"I, um…I don't remember," she stammered, tugging her hand free. Averting her eyes, she scrambled out of bed, making sure to pull the shirt down as far as the hem would allow. "I'm going to take a shower."

"Leave the door open," Damon said, the absurd request stopping her in her tracks as she whirled around to face him.

"You want me to do _what?_" she demanded.

The smirk was back, curving his lips, but his blue eyes were flat as he looked at her. "There's a window in there. Anybody could get in."

"Damon," she argued, gesturing toward the door. "We're on the second floor."

"Vampires can jump," he replied. Realizing she couldn't argue with that, Elena huffed and grabbed her bag. Ducking into the bathroom, she immediately shut the door behind her and glared at it. There was no way she was about to leave the damn thing open. She needed the privacy to clear her head, organize her thoughts and there was no chance of that happening with _Damon_ mere feet away, able to hear her every breath through the open door.

Catching her reflection in the mirror, Elena froze. While the cut on her cheek and her broken wrist had healed, leaving her skin flawless and glowing, her hair was another story. Blood – _her_ blood – was caked in the hairline down the right side of her face and matted in clumps throughout the long tresses. Shoving aside the ridiculous spark of vanity that cringed at the thought of Damon seeing her in such a state, she warily eyed the small window set high in the wall. Stefan could return at any time to finish the job he'd started. No second story room would keep the monster she'd met in the alley from his goal. Grudgingly, she twisted the knob and eased the door open a miniscule crack.

Avoiding her reflection in the mirror, Elena leaned into the shower and turned the hot water on full blast. Her fingers trembled slightly as she unbuttoned Damon's shirt and set it aside. Stepping into the shower, she gasped as the scalding water hit her skin. For a few minutes she withstood the spray, her mind blissfully blank as her body acclimated itself to the punishing temperature.

As the water, turning pink with her blood, swirled down the drain, she reached for the shampoo and dumped half the bottle into her hands. Lathering it into her hair, she gave in and began sifting through her thoughts. The second she had realized it was Stefan who had grabbed her, the initial fear of being kidnapped had disappeared as she realized she'd been humiliatingly naïve. After seeing him succumb once, she'd believed that the monster that was unleashed when he drank human blood was separate from the Stefan she'd fallen in love with. When one was in control, the other simply ceased to exist.

She'd been wrong.

Sighing, Elena tipped her head back and began to rinse her hair. She'd expected the butterflies to begin, the flare of attraction and anticipation, of contentment and peace that had always, _always _accompanied her first glimpse of Stefan even during the throws of the bloodlust. The Stefan she saw in the alley had destroyed that notion. Completely. Irrevocably. Even if they got him back, nothing would be the same. She could forgive, but what had happened would always be between them.

Those feelings of contentment and peace she'd felt with Stefan had never come. But they had with Damon.

The moment he'd appeared at the mouth of that alley, relief and gratitude had coursed through her. As she'd feared for Damon's life while she watched him fight for her, kill for her, other feelings surfaced. She'd been in too much pain, been overwhelmed by too much fear to pick them apart and identify them, but the second he'd stepped out of that bathroom minutes ago, the confusing mix of emotions had come into a sharp, startling clarity. The butterflies, the attraction, the peace, all of it had slammed into her with alarming force.

_It's okay to love them both._

Finishing her shower, she shut off the water, squeezing the excess from her hair before stepping out onto the cold, tile floor. Drying off, she wrapped the towel around her before reaching for Damon's shirt where it lay on top of her bag. Closing her eyes, she buried her face in the soft fabric, and for once, let go of the denial that she'd used to bury her growing feelings.

She loved Damon.

Tears stung her eyes as she lifted her head and stared at the door, thinking of him waiting for her on the other side. In the past few weeks, no matter how angry or upset she'd gotten with him, she'd gone out of her way to be around him. At first, she'd told herself that being with him made her feel closer to Stefan, but that hadn't been the complete truth. She likedbeing with Damon because it was _him. _Because, with him, it was okay to smile, to laugh in the face of all of the absurdly horrible things life insisted she face. He challenged her, kept her going, and if it hadn't been for him, she may have given up long ago.

And he deserved to know that.

Determined, she set Damon's shirt aside and dug in her bag for her pajamas. The soft, worn yoga pants and cami felt like silk against her skin as she slipped them on. Drying her hair, she ran a comb through the clean tresses. It may have been okay for Katherine to love them both, but not for her. She wouldn't play the Salvatores against each other for her own amusement, she'd just…be honest. There was still a part of her that clung to the perfect, idyllic love that she'd shared with Stefan, but Damon deserved to know that his feelings weren't one-sided.

Maybe if she told him about the kiss, if she held nothing back, he could help her figure out a way to get through it that wouldn't destroy them all.


	15. Daedalus Demands

_AN: What's this? Posting after just two days? Why yes...because originally the Damon section was supposed to go in the previous chapter...until I realized to do it justice would take about 10,000 words. That's a touch much, no?_

_Thanks for your amazing feedback. I know I saw it every chapter, but I SO can't wait to hear what you think of this chapter. Seriously. Tell me. I'm dying to know. ;p Of all the chapters thus far, this is the one I want to see most on the show._

Chapter 15 - Daedalus Demands

Stefan made his way through the streets of Savannah in a haze of longing and bloodlust. Without Katherine to take the edge off, he'd become dangerously unstable – a fact Klaus had noticed and taken advantage of. While the constant errands had become tedious, they had at least kept his impulses relatively in check. The Original's spies had been difficult to elude, but now that Katherine had been in town for over twenty-four hours, the need to see her, to _touch _her, outweighed all else.

They'd agreed to meet on the outskirts of town as a precaution against Klaus's vigilance. Traveling on foot so as not to arouse suspicion, Stefan felt Katherine's presence before he actually saw her and the knowledge that she was near lifted some of the fog.

"Stefan," Katherine said the moment he broke the tree line across from the scenic overlook just off the highway. Everything in her posture and stance retained the cool aloofness she'd always possessed, but her lips curved in a genuine smile that reached her eyes.

Vaguely aware of Elijah standing there as well, Stefan ignored the Original as he walked straight to Katherine. Without thought to anything but his own desire, he took her face in his hands and kissed her. The connection was a further balm to his tortured psyche, and as she kissed him back with equal passion, he buried his fingers in her long, curly hair, closing them into fists and pulling her head back to deepen the kiss.

Much too soon, Katherine broke away, placing her finger on his lips and whispering so quietly that even Elijah couldn't hear. "Later, Stefan."

Focused now, but nowhere near sated, he murmured. "I missed you. There's something I need to tell you."

"Later," she repeated, winking as she tipped her head toward Elijah. "Look who I found."

"Elijah," Stefan said, nodding at the vampire.

"Stefan," he replied, standing stoically at a respectful distance. "Thank you for sending Katherine to recue me. Considering my actions have led to your current enslavement to my brother, I appreciate it even more."

"We all make choices," he said vaguely, stepping closer to Katherine. "If you want to thank me, you can tell me who Liliana is and what's her connection to Katherine. Why does Klaus want her?"

"Yes," Elijah said slowly, clasping his hands behind his back and gazing up at the sky. "Katherine filled me in on my brother's latest schemes. To get straight to the point…have you _seen _Liliana?"

"No," Stefan said, growing distracted by Katherine's nearness after so much time apart. Catching his eye, she held his gaze. "I only heard Klaus speaking to her."

"But you _have_ heard her voice," the Original pressed.

"Actually, no," he admitted, forcing himself to address the other vampire. "Only one-sided conversations."

"Perhaps he was speaking on the phone?"

"Liliana's definitely there," Stefan countered, recalling the times he'd left his second floor room at the hotel and heard Klaus on the first floor. From the balcony that looked down upon the lobby, he'd watched the Original speak to someone always just out of reach. Katherine and Elijah exchanged a look. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Liliana's dead, Stefan," Katherine explained. "Klaus killed her a thousand years ago and that's why he was cursed. She's…his sister and she…well, she's the first. The one Elena and I look like."

"So you see," Elijah continued. "The fact that my brother is talking to her is quite…interesting."

Stefan considered the surprising new information. "So, Klaus is seeing ghosts. What does this have to do with Katherine?"

"Honestly, I have no idea," Elijah admitted, shrugging. "I'm at a loss. In the centuries that Klaus and I spent trying to lift the curse, he never mentioned Liliana. Despite her role in his predicament, he refused to speak of her."

"Whatever," Stefan scowled, gesturing to Katherine as he advanced on the Original. "I don't care. I don't care about your family drama or your sister or why Klaus is talking to her. I care about the part where he plans to kill Katherine. That's the only reason I sent her to remove the dagger and bring you here."

Elijah considered Stefan's declaration for a moment before brushing past them and heading toward the city. The apparent dismissal grated on Stefan as he whirled around and grabbed the Original's arm. "Where the hell are you going?"

"Stefan," Katherine admonished softly, rushing to get between the two vampires. Elijah pointedly looked down at the hand on his arm before glancing at her with a raised brow. Forcing Stefan back a few steps, she ordered. "Let him go."

"I have to make some inquires," Elijah said as soon as Stefan released his arm. "I will return. You have my word."

"Because that's worth so much," he grumbled as Elijah blurred away, disappearing around the bend in the road.

"He'll be back."

"How do you know?" Stefan demanded, turning to face her. "He ditched us once."

"Because family is his weakness and he can't turn his back on it." Katherine replied, moving to his side and taking his face in her hands. Closing his eyes, he leaned into her touch and said nothing. "Something happened while I was gone, didn't it?"

Hesitating for a long moment, Stefan eventually sighed and opened his eyes. "Damon and Elena are in Savannah."

"I know," she admitted softly. "I called Damon the night I left."

"You _what_?" he demanded, grabbing her wrists and pulling her hands from his face. A sudden burst of fury had him backing her into the hood of her car. Despite her superior strength, Katherine didn't fight. "Why the hell would you do that?"

"I was worried about you, Stefan," she replied calmly, realizing that her fears in the cave and the hours leading up to this reunion with him were completely justified. Gently pushing him away, she slithered off the hood. "Besides, they already knew. You didn't really think that you could just vanish from Mystic Falls and that Damon wouldn't come after you? That _she_ wouldn't _make_ him come after you? Even if he were ready to give up on you, Elena never would."

A flash of regret crossed Stefan's features and Katherine's stomach dropped. Raising a brow, she said flatly. "You saw her, didn't you."

Stefan nodded.

Jealousy and rejection coursed through her, but she remained outwardly aloof. Determined to hide the anxiety that always arose when she thought about Stefan reuniting with Elena, she crossed her arms and put more distance between them. Ice dripped from her words as she asked. "How'd it go? The perfect lover's reunion?"

Stefan narrowed his eyes and closed the small distance between them, backing her into the grill of the car. Lifting her chin, Katherine held his gaze as she cursed her own weakness. She'd believed so quickly, so easily that she'd regained her place in Stefan's heart, that his rejection now almost seemed deserved.

Watching her carefully, Stefan brushed a stray curl off her forehead, tucking it behind her ear. Casually, he said. "I kidnapped her out of a motel parking lot, broke her wrist and threw her against a brick wall. Damon saw it all. I left her with him, broken and bleeding in an alley. How's that for perfect?"

Katherine stared, at a loss for words. Stefan had confessed to nearly killing the woman he loved without so much as a stammer. "Why?"

"I don't know," he replied, letting his gaze drift to her mouth as the regret returned. "I heard they were in town and you weren't here."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"I lost control," he admitted, frowning as he concentrated on the memory. "I didn't mean to hurt her, Katherine, I just…I saw her and she wasn't you and I was so angry that she was here and you weren't. She kept telling me that it would be okay, that she and Damon were there to help me, but it wasn't what _I _wanted."

"What _do_ you want, Stefan?" she asked, hating every second of this conversation where she couldn't be three steps ahead of everybody around her.

"You," he replied immediately and the relief at hearing that single word was so intense she almost kissed him, but her pragmatic side won out. "I only want you."

"Why?" she asked again, poking at the elephant in the room. "Why do you want me, Stefan? Why now? I've been back for months and now, suddenly, you want me. Why?"

"Because you…you're all I think about," he said, meeting her eye again, and stroking her cheek. "You're the only thing that makes me feel sane."

"Do you love me?"

"Yes."

"Would you love me if you were drinking animal blood again and being the good brother back in Mystic Falls?" she demanded, asking the question she'd only danced around before. When Stefan hesitated, she smiled. "That's what I thought. See, I think that when this is over and you're free of Klaus, you'll want to go back to that pretty little world where you like to pretend you're human. Perpetually in high school with your human girlfriend and your human feelings and your human life."

"Katherine-."

"It might not be that easy, though," she cautioned bitterly. "What if Elena has moved on? We both know Damon's just _waiting _for her to give up so he can work his charm and those pretty blue eyes and have her falling all over him. Hell, maybe it's even happening right now. Extreme circumstances can bring people together, you know, and considering how I found them when I brought the cure…"

"What are you talking about?" he demanded.

Katherine tilted her head, gazing at him coyly as she shrewdly searched for the smallest hint of his true feelings. "They were in his bed, wrapped up in each other's arms. Kissing. What if right now Elena's screaming Damon's name while he _finally _gets to have her the way he's wanted to for so long? Doesn't that bother you?"

Stefan's jaw ticked as he dropped the hand that had been touching her cheek. Although Katherine felt the loss acutely, a perverse sense of triumph surged through her as well. It was a hollow victory. He planted his hands on either side of her hips on the hood of the car, forcing her to lean back to meet his eye. "I don't know why, Katherine. All I know is that you're the one I think about. You're the one I want."

Katherine stared at him for a moment, wishing she could put aside centuries of lies and double-crosses and simply take him at his word. Katerina Petrova would have. She would have melted beneath the pretty words and his soulful brown eyes. But she wasn't that girl anymore. Would never be again. Taking a deep breath, she gently pushed him away and moved to the overlook. Taking in the lights of Savannah, she came to a decision. "It doesn't matter. Now that we've got Elijah, we need to get you away from Klaus."

"And do what?"

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend. If we want to take out Klaus or even stop him, we…" she paused, grimacing in disgust at what she was about to suggest. "We need Damon."

* * *

><p>Stepping out of the elevator on the penthouse level of a luxury condominium high-rise, Klaus took in the set of double doors in front of him. There was no hallway, and he casually crossed the polished marble floor, gazing around at the simple, but lush decorations. He raised his hand to knock, but the door swung wide open, revealing the terrified features of a statuesque red head. He grinned, fang descended, and she gasped.<p>

"Mia," he said, placing his hands on her waist and kissing each cheek. "Thank you for seeing me on such short notice."

"My pleasure," she stammered as he stepped across the threshold. He'd long ago been invited into the expansive apartment. Her heels echoed off the marble floor that continued on into the foyer, the smell of fear coming off of her in waves. "To what do I owe the honor?"

"Oh, I believe you know," Klaus said, continuing into the main living space and gazing out of the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked Savannah skyline. "It seems the _men _you sent to gather my books were…not up to the task."

Mia was silent for a solid minute, her hands clutching the fabric of her silk slip dress, wrinkling the delicate fabric. Tears were evident in her voice when she finally spoke. "Klaus, I'm…so sorry. Really, I-I thought they were better prepared. I didn't expect-."

"Complications, yes I am aware," he finished for her, turning his back on the view. "I would think a witch of your reputation and power would have had a contingency plan for three, weak humans."

"I'm so sorry."

"Yes, you've said that already," he said briskly, clasping his hands together and surveying the room. "You know, this apartment is really quite lovely. Who decorated it?"

"I did," Mia said, her brow furrowing in confusion.

"I think you missed your calling," Klaus said, suddenly grabbing her by the throat and yanking her right out of her shoes. He carried her across the room in an instant, slamming her against the far wall. The vampire's face was a mask of raw fury as he hissed at her. "Perhaps in your next life you should consider interior decorating given your complete ineptitude as a simple witch."

"Klaus, please-."

"I need that book," he said, squeezing her throat harder until she was choking and gasping for breath. She clawed at his fingers, desperately trying to speak.

"I…I found…my grandmother's notes," Mia finally gasped when Klaus loosened his grip enough for her to breathe. "I can perform the spell. You don't-don't need the book."

"Is that so?" Klaus asked suspiciously.

"Yes. Really," Mia assured him quickly. "It's actually not that difficult as long as the proper steps are followed."

Abruptly, Klaus released her, letting her fall to the floor in a heap. Mia struggled to a seated position as he walked away, stopping by the wrought iron spiral staircase leading to the second floor loft. Addressing the empty space, he asked. "What do you think? Should I believe her?"

From her place on the floor, Mia rubbed her sore throat. Tentatively, she called out. "Who are you talking to?"

Klaus ignored her as he inclined his head, as if he were considering someone else's words. "That is true, she obviously values her life. Perhaps she is lying, though. Perhaps she is unable to do as she claims. She would not be the first witch I've had dealings with who has lied to me…Ah, I know just how to find out."

In an instant, he was crouching before her. "Look at me, Mia."

"You can't compel me, Klaus," she cringed, looking away and lying in desperation. "I'm on vervain."

"Well, then you should have no problem meeting my eye," he replied, taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger and forcing her to look at him. Tears pooled in her eyes as his pupils flared before shrinking. "Tell me the truth, Mia. Can you truly perform the ritual?"

"Yes," she replied, the truth falling from her lips as the compulsion swept through her. "I can do it. I can summon the spirit of any ghost and put it into the body of another."

"Excellent," Klaus said, shoving her face aside and rising to his feet. Again, he addressed the empty stairs. "See there, Liliana, all is not lost. Despite Mia's failings in choosing her henchmen, she is a consummate witch." Turning to the witch silently weeping on the floor, he sneered. "I take back what I said about the interior designing, by the way. This place is rather hideous."

As she cowered in the corner, hating the weakness for money and power that had reduced her to a sniveling creature unable to resist the Original's bidding, Klaus returned. This time, he didn't crouch, didn't force her to look at him, because she gazed willingly. "Just so we can avoid any further disappointment, Mia, you will travel with me from here on. You will gather what we need for the ritual and when everything and everyone is in place, you will put the spirit of my sister Liliana into Katerina Petrova's body…and bring my haunting to an end."

* * *

><p>The second Elena stepped into the bathroom, Damon's shoulders slumped as fatigue, frustration and regret slammed into him like a freight train. Cursing the world and his brother – but mostly himself for bringing up the damn kiss not two minutes after she'd woken up – he groaned and scrubbed his hands over his face as he lay back on the mattress.<p>

Elena had been asleep for two days - two very long, days where he'd had nothing to do but watch her sleep and obsess over her last words. The lack of blood in his system had begun to wear down the already flimsy mental walls he'd erected against her and as he'd feared for her life and safety, he'd begun second guessing his every decision since he'd picked her broken body up off the alley floor. Even though he'd been down the road of rejection before and vowed never to travel it again – he'd convinced himself to bring up the kiss.

He was such a fucking idiot.

Wearily, he rose from the bed and grabbed a pair of pants from his bag. Tossing the towel aside, he got as far as pulling them on and zipping the fly before sinking to the mattress once again. Bracing his elbows on his knees, he held his head in his hands trying to remember the last time he'd gone so long without feeding. He had plenty of time before the lack of blood truly incapacitated him, but the thirst was eroding his control. A strange mixture of human emotion and animal instinct rolled him, a mass of hunger and self-recrimination that left him susceptible to his deepest desires. The muffled sound of water splashing against the tiles emanated from the bathroom and even if he'd recently glutted himself on blood, he doubted he could muster the strength to banish the image of Elena's naked body beneath the spray from his brain.

This _sucked_.

The water stopped as he eased back onto the mattress, propping the pillows behind his back and stretching his legs out. Closing his eyes, he listened to her move around inside the tiny bathroom. Clearly, whatever had prompted her to bring up the kiss had passed while she was asleep and he'd be damned if he mentioned it again. With his control so fragile, it would be better for both of them if he stuck to neutral topics.

Finally, the door to the bathroom opened, light spilling across the bed. Opening one eye at a time, he saw Elena hesitating in the doorway and couldn't help the very _un-_neutral pang of relief and longing at seeing her conscious and moving around on her own. "Feel better?"

"Much," she nodded, setting her bag on the floor by the dresser and crossing to the bed. Standing over him for a moment, she let out a short breath and sat beside him, her hip touching his as she handed him his shirt. "Thank you for taking care of me."

The simple thanks tugged at his shallowly buried emotions and he snatched the shirt from her hands, tossing it aside. "Whatever. Don't worry about it."

If his curt reply stung, Elena didn't show it as she reached for his hand. "Damon, there's something I-."

"Bonnie, Ric and Jeremy should be here in the morning," he interrupted, clasping his hands behind his head and out of her reach. Touching her was now on his list of things _not _to do. "Caroline and Tyler won't be far behind. Not that it's going to do much good. Klaus and Stefan have days on us. They could have left Savannah already."

"Days?" Elena repeated, glancing at the glowing red numbers of the digital clock on the nightstand between the beds. "What are you talking about? It's midnight. It's only been a few hours since Stefan grabbed me."

Realizing she had no idea how long she'd been asleep, Damon sighed. Yet _another _thing he'd screwed up. Gentler now, he said. "Elena, it's been two days."

"What?" she laughed a moment before faltering at his serious expression. "W-what do you mean days?"

"I compelled you to sleep through the pain," he said, relenting as he took in her lost expression and unclasped his hands to take the one she'd offered him only moments ago. "You were out for two days."

"Oh my god," she whispered, unconsciously squeezing his fingers. As she grappled with the startling information, Damon was mesmerized by the simple sight of her frowning in confusion. He'd spent so much of the past two days watching her sleep, he'd almost forgotten what her eyes looked like or the way her brow crinkled when she was lost in thought. Beneath her shallow breathing, he heard the steady beat of her heart, quicker than the pulse he'd memorized, but no less beautiful in the way it proved how alive and human she still was.

Focusing on him again after a few moments, she shook her head. "Damon, I…" she froze, her eyes narrowing. With her free hand, she touched his shoulder where the wooden stake had glanced off him days ago. "Why haven't you healed? If it's been days since the fight, you should have healed by now."

The wound was no longer bleeding, but it was still tender and he winced at her probing touch. Immediately, she pulled her hand away as she glared at him with a strange mix of accusation and concern. Damon stared at her for a moment before looking away, stubbornly silent.

Reaching over him, Elena flipped on the bedside lamp, and gasped at the sight that greeted her. Damon knew what he looked like – pale and ashen with bloodless lips and dark circles standing out prominently beneath his eyes. Understanding dawned as she asked quietly. "When was the last time you fed?"

"Don't worry about it."

"_Damon," _she warned.

Rolling his eyes, he sighed. "The afternoon before we found Landis."

"That…that was five days ago."

"Five and a half," he shrugged. "If you want to get technical."

"How could you let this happen? I thought you brought plenty of blood."

"I didn't _let _anything happen," he snapped. "And I did bring blood. Unfortunately, it flew out of the trunk when we spun on that gravel road and between searching for Klaus and scraping you off of a brick wall, I really haven't had a chance to restock."

"And you let me take too much," she murmured knowingly, touching his face as she searched him for more wounds. As if she did it every day, she brushed his hair away from the cut above his eye to study it closer. "But if I was…_asleep_ for two days what the hell were you doing that whole time?"

"Watching you sleep," he replied, his jaw clenched tight as he stared at her. Taking her wrists, he pulled her hands away from his face. "Making sure you were breathing and that your heart kept beating while you healed from what _Stefan_ did to you. I wasn't going to leave you with nothing but a few flimsy locks as protection. I still won't, so don't even suggest it."

"Then what do we do?" Elena pressed, glancing around the room. "Stay locked up in here forever."

"I can think of worse places to waste away," Damon shrugged, deliberately casual as if he was actually considering it. At Elena's huff of annoyance he rolled his eyes. "When everybody gets here tomorrow, I'll take care of it. It'll be fine."

Elena said nothing, staring at him. Somehow his grip on her wrists had shifted and he was cradling her hands against his bare chest. His senses may have been dulled, but he was still acutely aware of her hip pressed against his side. The heat of her body bled through the simple pajamas that somehow turned him on just as much as seeing her in his shirt. In the silence, he picked out the steady beat of her heart and the burning thirst in his throat intensified. He could almost taste the blood coursing through her veins. Hastily, he let go of her hands and crossed his arms over his chest.

Elena cleared her throat, a soft sound that shattered the silence. "There's another option."

"What's that?" he scoffed.

"Don't wait," she explained, planting a hand on the mattress and leaning over him, her long hair falling over her shoulder and brushing his stomach. "Use me."

"_Use _you?" Damon demanded, pretending not to understand.

"Feed on me, drink from me," Elena shrugged. "Whatever you want to call it."

Damon laughed. "No fucking way."

"Why not?" she demanded. "You need it and it's not like I haven't done it before."

"What, you mean your little experiments with Stefan?" Damon sneered, fighting the bloodlust spiking inside him. Elena's heart rate picked up, pounding inside his head like a war drum and his throat began to ache with thirst. "That doesn't count. This would be different, Elena."

"Different how?" she asked, tossing her hair over her shoulder and exposing her neck in a way he could have sworn was deliberate. His mouth watered as he swallowed convulsively, staring at her throat. Images came to mind, tantalizing glimpses at what it would be like to hold her and sink his teeth into that delicate flesh. _Intimate, _he thought holding back a groan. _It would be intimate. _

Closing his eyes, he simply said. "Stefan was testing himself. He didn't need it like I do right now. I could destroy you, Elena. I could drain you before you even had a chance to scream."

He'd expected a reaction, that some hint of the gravity of what she was asking had begun to sink in. Upon opening his eyes, he saw that she was taking stubborn to a whole new level as she shook her head. "You wouldn't do that."

"Elena-."

"You _wouldn't_," she insisted, scooting closer until the motel room disappeared and his world was nothing but her hair and her eyes and her achingly familiar scent. "You saved my life. You gave me your blood. Let me return the favor."

"I'm not dying," he argued weakly as he caved to base need and slipped his fingers around the back of her neck, brushing his thumb over the tempting vein on her throat.

"Damon, please, let me help you."

The 'please' nearly did him in, but he shook his head. "No."

"Dammit, Damon!" Elena cried, smacking his hand away as she jumped to her feet. Surprised by her anger, he stared at her as she flung a hand toward the door. "Fine. If you won't drink from me, then go out there and find somebody else. You couldn't protect me from anything right now. Not like this. All Stefan would have to do is kick down the door and I'd be dead before-"

The way she casually threw around the idea of his brother touching her again sparked an anger in Damon that he couldn't ignore. Moving faster than any human eye could follow, he rose from the bed, grabbing Elena by the shoulders and pressing her against the wall. Instantly, he realized his mistake as the impulsive act snapped his already fragile control. His eyes began to shift as the bloodlust rose to the surface, but he held on, leaning closer until their bodies were aligned intimately and their faces mere inches apart. "I'm _weak_, Elena. Not useless."

"Prove it," she challenged, tilting her chin. Damon's gaze dropped to her mouth, then lower, almost seeing her pulse flutter in time with her rapidly beating heart. A powerful need coursed through him and he wasn't sure if it was merely the thirst or something more. He leaned closer, hypnotized by the smooth column of her throat, until his forehead nearly touched her shoulder. Elena's breath floated over his temple as she whispered. "I'm not afraid of you."

"God, Elena," he admitted, pushing away from her with the last of his strength. "You should be." Stumbling backwards, his knees hit the edge of the bed and he sank to the mattress. He blinked his eyes slowly, as if drugged, and watched her close the short distance between them. He fought with everything he had to resist, but the thirst muddled his thoughts and he was having a hard time remembering why it would be so bad to take what she so willingly offered. "You have no idea…what I could do to you."

Elena sat next to him on the bed and he stared at her as she took his hand, working his gaze up her arm to her face. There was no fear in her eyes, but he could feel and hear her pulse, hammering away at an impressive rate. Raising a brow, she said. "I think you're the one who's afraid."

Damon closed his eyes, nearly shaking from the strain of holding himself in check. The monster within urged him to accept her invitation, to sink his teeth into her neck and glut himself on blood. The man vividly recalled the way she'd kissed him. Both parts agreed on one thing: he needed to taste her.

"Damon, look at me," she said, slipping her other hand behind his head and turning his face towards her. Helpless to resist, he opened his eyes, finding that once again, they were so close, she was the only thing in his world. "You know I trust you. This doesn't change anything."

_Of course it doesn't, _Damon realized, almost snarling at the thought. Elena was willing to make herself vulnerable to him in a way she couldn't even imagine, and it changed nothing. She still loved Stefan and he was destined to remain second best. Why the hell shouldn't he take what she offered? It was the closest they'd ever be.

The last remaining shreds of his restraint dissolved and with the promise of _her _blood to quench his thirst, he grabbed her wrists in a sudden burst of strength and pushed her down to the bed. Her back hit the mattress, hair billowing out around her head like an ebony halo, as she gasped and her eyes went wide with anticipation. The lack of fear nearly drove him insane and instinct urged him to plunder, but he managed to offer one final warning as he loomed above her. "Don't fight me. It won't hurt if you don't fight."

Elena nodded, closing her eyes in a final, unspoken acceptance. Damon drank her in, the way her chest grazed his as it rose and fell, the way her pulse raced beneath her skin where he touched her. Her neck beckoned in silent offering and finally, unable to resist another moment, he lowered his mouth to the pulsing vein in her throat and sunk his teeth into her flesh.


	16. Icarus Abides

_AN: Welcome to the most challenging chapter of the fic...and probably the one with the biggest payoff. I wouldn't really call this NC-17, but it does get a little racy, so read at your own risk. ;p _

_Thank you so very much for your fabulous feedback to the last chapter. I know I left you with a bit of a cliffhanger, but hopefully this chapter makes up for it. ;p As always, I can't wait to hear what you think._ Enjoy!

Chapter Sixteen - Icarus Abides

Caroline trailed behind Tyler and their new werewolf friend Adrian as they tramped through the never ending forest. As soon as he'd been able to speak in full sentences, Adrian had told them how Klaus had ambushed him on the night of a full moon and fitted him with the silver collar. After the change, his memories had become scattered impressions and images seen through a yellow haze until the moment they'd arrived and set him free. He had no idea how long he'd been kept prisoner, or what had happened to his pack, but he'd vowed to find them.

And Tyler had vowed to help.

Caroline slapped at a mosquito and scowled at the familiar surroundings. She was sure they were walking in circles, searching for a pack that was no longer in the area. Unfortunately, her subtle hints to Tyler that they should give up had fallen on deaf ears. While she admired him for wanting to help, her patience was wearing thin.

As they came upon a clearing she _knew _they'd been through before, she stopped and sighed. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out why Tyler needed to help Adrian and under different circumstances, she would have tagged along without complaint. The circumstances weren'tdifferent, however, and no amount of circling the same area for _hours_ changed the fact that Stefan had been found and Damon wanted them in Savannah by morning. Anxiously, she checked the time on her cell phone, knowing if they continued the search much longer, they wouldn't make it on time. Biting her lip, she hissed. "Tyler!"

Halfway across the clearing, he turned, frowning at Caroline as she gestured for him to come back. Adrian was a few paces ahead, completely engrossed in scenting the air for traces of his pack. Tyler called. "What is it?"

"Shhh! Come here," Caroline insisted, glancing at Adrian.

"Why?" he asked, trotting back to her.

"I don't want…_I don't want him to hear_," she said so softly the words were barely a whisper. Waiting until Tyler was right in front of her, she said urgently. "I don't want to hurt his feelings or anything, but we're going in circles."

Tyler looked at the ground, chagrined. "I-I know. I noticed it this morning."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I just figured it was…left over confusion from being chained up for so long."

"Tyler, we have to go," she insisted, feeling like a bitch and hating it. She knew what it was like to feel alone, to be lost and here she was, plotting to abandon someone who really needed her help. If only Stefan didn't need it more. "We've been looking for his pack for two days and we've covered every inch of these woods. They're not here anymore. I know Adrian's been through a lot, but if we don't get going we're not going to make it to Savannah by morning."

"Come on," Tyler argued. "We can give him a few more hours. He said he was starting to remember more, that the area was more familiar."

"Oh my god, Tyler!" she cried, pressing her fingertips to her forehead. "Adrian's pack is gone. I'm sorry. I am, okay? I get that pack is family and I get that you want to help him and that's awesome, but we can't look forever. Our family, our _pack, _needs us in Savannah."

"I know," he admitted, crossing his arms and staring at the starry sky. "I just...I'm never going to be able to make it up…biting Damon, what Stefan had to do because of it. I can help Adrian. I can do something good with this…curse."

Caroline's resolve weakened as Tyler pled his case. Although, they'd barely discussed it, she knew the guilt he was carrying for the part he'd played in their latest disaster had been weighing him down. Knowing there was nothing she could say to make him feel better was killing her. Shaking her head, she sighed. "I guess a few more hours won't hurt."

"Awesome," he grinned and she couldn't help returning the gesture.

"But we leave by dawn," she said, holding up a warning finger. Tyler bowed his head, accepting her mandate. Turning back to the clearing – the very empty clearing – Caroline frowned. "Wait. Where'd he go?"

A snarl ripped through the night directly behind her, causing the hairs on the back of her neck to rise. Whirling around, she gasped and clutched blindly at Tyler's arm. "Oh my god. What's wrong with him?"

Adrian stood before them, having evidently circled the clearing and snuck up behind them while she and Tyler had been talking. Under the moonless sky, his eyes glowed a feral yellow as sweat dripped down his face and his chest heaved. Caroline took an involuntary step backward as she watched his body contort in a pattern that was both familiar and terrifying.

"He's changing," Tyler breathed, instinctually stepping in front of Caroline.

"He can't be. It's not a full moon," she cried, staring at the sky as panic gripped her heart. "There's no moon at all."

"Fuck," Tyler cursed, backpedaling faster as Adrian dropped to all fours and roared in agony. "Caroline. Run."

"What? Why?" she demanded even as she obeyed clinging to his hand and as they made a mad dash across the clearing. "Why are we running?"

"Adrian's a hybrid."

* * *

><p><em>Don't fight me. It won't hurt if you don't fight. <em>

Despite Damon's warning, Elena's heart raced as his lips touched her throat. Memories of the sacrifice and Klaus, of the town square and Damon flashed through her mind, bringing doubts with it. If Damon was right and he lost control, there was nothing she could do to combat his primal instinct to feed.

At the first, sharp contact of fang on flesh, Elena tensed, squeezing her eyes shut against a burst of pain that never came. Smoothly, his teeth pierced her skin, barely a pinprick, and he sighed against her throat. At first, nothing happened and she was intensely aware of his body pressed against hers, their legs tangled together, his mouth against the sensitive skin of her throat.

Then he began to drink and everything changed.

Biting her lip to hold back a gasp, Elena's eyes flew open as her nerve endings exploded in a surprising wave of sensation. Deep within her, a switch flipped and she was suddenly, acutely attuned to every fiber of her being. The places Damon touched her – her wrists, her throat – burned deliciously as her pulse raced, echoing in her head like a drum. Offering her blood to Stefan had brought pain and a dizzy, light-headed feeling – nothing like this sensory overload.

Damon had been right. This _was _different.

Releasing her wrists, he slipped an arm beneath her shoulder blades, trailing the other down the side of her body to her hip. Elena's eyelids fluttered shut as he pulled her against him, bringing them closer than before. Her hands found their way between their bodies, wrapping her arms around his bare back. One hand wandered up and over his well-muscled shoulder blades to sink into his hair, urging him on. With every shuddering breath, her chest rubbed against his, creating an achingly delicious friction through the thin fabric of her cami.

Scattered thoughts coalesced for fleeting moments in her mind as the draw between them drove all the way to the deepest part of her. Shuddering slightly, Elena bent her knee and shifted underneath him, drawing him closer. She wanted this, hungered for the way her entire being seemed to be concentrated in the vein on her neck where she was connected to Damon. Her body burned as the blood flowed through her, building into an erotic tension that made her clutch him tighter as she dug her nails into his flesh. Craning her neck and arching her body against him, the debilitating need to have him closer had her offering more.

She had never felt this way with Stefan. She'd never felt this way with anybody.

On some level, Elena wanted to be horrified, disgusted even, that she was taking such pleasure and satisfaction in allowing a vampire to drink her blood. It was wrong, depraved, and in that moment she didn't care. All that mattered was the solid weight of Damon's body pressing her deeper into the mattress, the way his hand had slipped beneath her lower back, bunching the cami up to expose her highly sensitized skin to his touch. Fisting his hair, she yearned to yank his head back and kiss him, but that would have meant putting an end to their connection and she couldn't do that.

Not yet.

Damon shifted slightly and his leg slipped between hers, pressing intimately against her. Elena nearly bit through her lip at the unexpected contact, unable to stifle her cry. He was gone before the sound faded and she was left on the bed with nothing but a painful emptiness where the pressure of his body had been.

And an almost desperate need to get him back.

* * *

><p>Gravel crunched beneath Elijah's feet as he slowed to a stop in front of an old church, standing alone in the countryside. Miles from Savannah, the structure was elegant in its simplicity and, while well-maintained by some Daughters of the Revolution type historical society, completely abandoned.<p>

The wooden stairs leading up to the arched double doors creaked as he slowly mounted them. Placing his hands on the sturdy door handles, he applied enough pressure to break the locks, but nothing more. The wrought iron fixtures were original to the building and Elijah loathed destroying their beauty.

The interior was dark, silent, and completely stocked for a church service that would never happen. Moonlight streamed through the stained glass windows, painting the highly polished wooden pews in a rainbow of muted colors as he strolled slowly down the center aisle. He placed his hand just below his heart, feeling the reassuring weight of the treasure in his inner pocket against his palm.

Pausing before the raised altar, he surveyed the collection of candles and other religious paraphernalia, mentally checking them against the list in his head. The supplies were crude, but with luck the age and Power of the church would make up for that.

Climbing the two steps before the altar, he arranged five candles in the appropriate configuration before searching for matches. He found a box of long, wooden matchsticks in a tiny cupboard behind a tapestry. Carefully, he set the box on the altar.

Fatigue washed over him as he contemplated what he was about to do. Not the momentary exhaustion of waking up from yet another stabbing by that infernal dagger, but a bone deep weariness that made even the small gesture of lighting a wick seem too much. How long would he continue this endless existence? How many times would he and his brother exploit each other's weaknesses? The games were becoming as pointless as they were tedious.

"Damn you, Klaus," he muttered, taking up the box and striking the match against the side. The flame glowed brightly as he lit each candle in no particular order. "I was foolish to allow this to go on so long. I should have stopped you after Katerina thwarted your plans."

Lighting the last candle, Elijah closed his eyes, hesitating a moment before reaching into his inner jacket pocket and retrieving the item he'd spent a thousand years protecting.

The signet ring was tiny, designed for a small woman, a girl really, with delicate hands and the most brilliant smile. Bearing their family crest, a single, perfect ruby was nestled at the apex. Liliana's ring – the only memento Elijah had of his youngest sister.

"Oh, Lily," he sighed, the whisper echoing in the empty church. The sayings were wrong, time healed nothing. He still missed her as if she had died only yesterday. Tracing a finger over the perfectly preserved engraving, he let the guilt wash over him.

He'd been there when Klaus killed Liliana. The sordid affair that had led to his existence had never bothered her. Regardless of lineage, he'd been her brother and she'd wanted to see him change into the hybrid beast that made him unique. Ultimately, her boundless curiosity had led to her death.

Klaus had turned and for a moment, had seemed to retain his knowledge of who he and Liliana were. He'd looked at them with recognition in his glowing yellow eyes, prompting her to venture closer. Reaching out a hand with that brilliant grin, she'd tried to touch him, to stroke the soft fur between his ears. The wind had changed suddenly, Klaus had caught her scent and gone was the curious, docile beast. In its place had been a snarling predator and a vampire's natural enemy.

He'd lashed out at her, catching her hand between his razor sharp teeth. Liliana hadn't even cried out as she'd snatched her hand away, but she'd run with Elijah back to their home. They'd arrived in seconds, securing the door behind them and staring at each other with wide eyes. Elijah still remembered the look on her face as she'd watched the wound on her arm disappear like every other injury she'd ever received. She'd laughed nervously, then with more confidence as she'd wiped away the blood. All had been well and when Klaus had returned the next morning, vaguely aware that he'd done _something_, she'd shared the story with him in a breathless, exhilarated whisper so as not to alert the rest of the family.

Of course, the reprieve hadn't lasted.

Placing the signet ring in the center of the candles, Elijah tried to forget what had come next, but it was impossible to remember the good times without remembering the bad. Liliana had tried to keep her decline a secret, but eventually, the pain and the delusions had been too much. The whole family had been there when she died – all except Klaus. He'd been too distraught to stay, choosing instead to exile himself for his crimes.

Perhaps it was because Elijah had been as curious as Liliana to see the transformation, that he had always held himself responsible, and refused to condemn Klaus. The curse had seemed an unjust punishment for such a tragic accident and as such, he'd been willing to help his brother break it. That blind, guilt-fueled loyalty had led them down the disastrous path they were both now on.

"Enough memories," he said aloud, banishing the static past that no amount of self-recrimination could change. Bracing his hands on the altar, he studied the ring. Magic of this sort was so simple. No witches, no rituals, not even a real spell was required to contact a spirit. The desire to connect simply had to be powerful enough.

And Elijah desperately wanted to contact Liliana.

"Please, Lily," he said, staring at the ring as tears blurred his vision. "If you're here…if you're haunting our brother…please let me see you. Not a day goes by that I don't think of you and wish I'd been…smarter, better – kept you safe like an older brother ought to. I wish it had been me to die. Please, Liliana…show yourself. I miss you."

The flames flickered as a sudden breeze blew up the aisle. Elijah looked up hopefully, blinking away tears as he searched every corner for his sister, but the church was empty. The wind had merely blown open the door. Disappointment cut through him like a blade, but he waited anyway, searching the shifting shadows for any hint of an apparition.

Seconds stretched into minutes and the wind died down. Still, Liliana failed to appear. Closing his eyes, Elijah leaned heavily against the altar, overcome by a sense of loss so acute he wondered if he'd ever be able to draw another breath.

Immortality wasn't a choice, however, and eventually he did. Burying the past and the pain, he opened his dry eyes and quickly blew out the candles. Without their gentle glow, the church seemed sterile and unwelcoming. Snatching the ring off the altar, he dropped it into his pocket and retreated quickly down the aisle.

Elijah was alone – just as he'd been for a thousand years.

* * *

><p>Breathless, Elena waited for her heart and her mind to stop racing, vaguely aware that Damon was still there, just out of sight. Bringing a shaking hand to her throat, she flinched at the two distinct welts she found there. Pulling her hand away, she stared, mesmerized, by the blood staining her fingertips.<p>

A noise from the bathroom cut through the rush of blood in her head, bringing focus back to her world. Curling her lip in disgust, Elena switched off the bedside lamp, banishing the blood from sight. Even if she hadn't known Damon so well, she would have guessed why he'd abruptly rushed from the bed. It might have been her imagination or the residual effects of the blood exchange, but she could practically feel him inside her head, all guilt and self-recrimination.

Summoning all of her strength, she rose on shaky legs and crossed the dark motel room. She stopped just outside the doorway, and stared at Damon's profile. His arms were braced on the sink, head bowed, his body a taught, rigid line that made something hot unfurl low in her belly – something that had always been there, hidden beneath snide comments and outright anger because she wasn't supposed to feel it for _him. _

"Damon," she said, surprised by the husky rasp of her voice. Clearing her throat, she reached for him and tried again. "Damon."

With a familiar speed that proved her blood was already taking effect, he grabbed her upper arm, pulling her into the bathroom and lifting her onto the counter. His blue eyes were nearly black with anger as he swept her hair off her neck. "Did I hurt you?"

"No," Elena said, her eyes widening as his touch stoked the fire and desire still raging through her.

"Don't lie to me," he ordered, taking her chin in his hand.

"I'm not," she replied heatedly, batting his hand away and spreading her knees so she could pull him closer and conduct an examination of her own. The wound on his shoulder had completely disappeared, and even though she was sure she'd find nothing above his eye, she needed to see for herself.

Silently, Damon stared at her as she brushed his hair off his forehead, dragging her thumb over the place the cut had been. His skin was smooth, flawless, like the rest of him, and she let her gaze fall to the planes of his bare chest. Pretending to check for more injuries, she reveled in the ridiculous perfection of his body.

Elena frowned suddenly as something caught her eye, something less than perfect and completely unexpected. Taking his left arm, she studied it for a moment before looking at him. "When did you get this scar?"

Damon shrugged. "I've always had it."

"No, you haven't," she shook her head, tracing the raised line with a finger. "I'd have noticed."

"Really?" he asked, shifting closer as his eyes gleamed wickedly.

"You do have a habit of parading around in front of me half naked, Damon," she replied, sitting up straighter on the counter, deliberately bringing them nose to nose.

Damon regarded her for a moment, his gaze dropping momentarily to her mouth, then lower to the bite mark on her neck. All traces of good humor evaporated as he grabbed a washcloth from the rack near the shower, running it under cold water before bringing it to her throat.

"I thought you said it didn't hurt," he accused as she hissed from the sudden sting.

"I've got two holes in my neck, it doesn't tickle," she grimaced as he held her still and stemmed the slowly seeping flow of blood. Absently, his thumb brushed the delicate skin below her jaw, sparking the embers of the overwhelming and confusing sensations coursing through her. "I promise, it didn't hurt, Damon. In fact, it felt-."

"The scar is from when Lockwood bit me," he interrupted, pressing a little harder against her throat and making her wince.

"I didn't think that was possible."

"Apparently supernatural injuries leave supernatural scars," he replied, focusing solely on his task. "So, for the rest of my potentially _very_ long existence, I get a reminder of the second worst night of my life."

"What could be worse than the night you almost died?"

Damon glanced at her briefly before murmuring. "The night you did."

Struck by the casual admission, Elena took the washcloth from his hand, setting it aside in the sink. He stared at the bite mark on her neck as she said. "I survived, Damon. You always make sure I survive."

Saying nothing, he dragged his knuckles lightly over the tender wound before slipping his hand behind her neck. His fingers tightened around the damp strands of her hair, making it impossible for her to look away. His voice was soft, but his eyes blazed with pent up frustration and fear. "Don't ever ask me to drink from you again."

"Don't tell me what to do," she argued. The feeling of his breath on her lips as he spoke had stoked the fire in her nerves and the desire in her veins. She wanted to go back to that place where thought had disappeared, where she'd known nothing but the heat of his touch. Her gaze dropped to his mouth and she inched forward.

"Elena," he warned, but she barely heard him as her pulse began to race. This wasn't smart. She _knew _it wasn't smart. There were things she needed to tell him first, but the urge to kiss him – _really_ kiss him – had returned and before he could put a stop to it, she leaned closer, and gave in.

He tasted exactly as she remembered - forbidden, dangerous and addictive – but he didn't kiss her back, sparking a wave of bitter disappointment. It was like the kiss in his room, on his bed, when he'd had the excuse of barely clinging to life to justify his lack of reaction. Rejection made her cheeks burn as she tried to pull away in an attempt to salvage some of her pride, but Damon hadn't loosened his grip on her hair.

With effort, she met his searching gaze. She wanted to speak, to apologize, but the words wouldn't come because she wasn't sorry. Half formed explanations flitted through her scattered brain, but the only conscious thought that fought its way to the forefront was how much she wanted him. For several endless seconds they stared at each other, the confusion and wariness within the depths of his blue eyes mirroring her own.

Finally, Damon shook his head, releasing her and taking a step back as her stomach dropped like a stone. Blinking away tears, she sat dumbly for a few minutes before sliding off the counter. As she crossed the threshold into the darkened room, intent on crawling back into bed and hiding from her humiliation, she heard him utter a low curse.

Suddenly, her back was pressed against the doorframe, Damon's lips crashing down on hers with all the hunger and intensity that she'd craved since the moment he'd tasted her blood. Elena didn't have time to wonder what had changed his mind as she kissed him back with equal passion, savoring the demanding pressure of his mouth.

Her arms found their way around his body, once again sliding up his spine to the back of his head, urging him closer. Parting her lips, she indulged in the kiss for what felt like an eternity, accepting everything he had to offer. Warnings went off in her head, arguing that she was playing with fire, that they should talk first so she could tell him how she felt, but in that moment, the only thing she felt was a need for him to keep touching her, kissing her.

The need to breathe forced Elena to tear her mouth away as Damon continued, blazing a trail of open mouthed kisses down her throat. Her chest was heaving, brushing against his and eliciting sparks that coursed throughout her body with every breath. His hands, which had been cradling her face, drifted lower, skirting the sides of her body, lightly brushing against her breasts and making her whimper with desire.

Elena's soft sounds of pleasure drove Damon crazy. He continued his exploration, determined to taste every inch of her body before she came to her senses. The self-preservation instinct that had nearly stopped him moments ago screamed at him to put an end to the insanity. Indulging in her would only lead to pain - for both of them - but he couldn't. The tether of sexual tension tightening between them was ready to snap and there was no way either one would be satisfied with a mere kiss.

Giving Elena time to stop him, he guided her toward the bed, fighting the urge to throw her to the mattress and tease her to such incredibly heights of desire and longing, she'd never come to her senses. The backs of his knees hit the mattress first, and he sat down, bringing her with him. Elena straddled his lap, their bodies melded together so intimately, there was no way to hide how badly he wanted her. She didn't pause as, holding his face in her hands, she kissed him, matching him stroke for insistent stroke. Whatever restraint, whatever reserve, he'd possessed shattered. Tired of the foreplay, he reached for the hem of her tank top, only to find that Elena had beaten him to it. Clutching the edge, she yanked it over her head without hesitation.

Brushing her hair off her face, she tried to pull him immediately back into a kiss, but Damon wanted a moment to appreciate the view. Flipping her to her back, he braced himself above her, drinking in the sight of her bare skin, glowing in the light spilling in from the wanted to tell her how beautiful she was, how perfect. He wanted to take his time and savor every part of her because no matter how much he tried to ignore it, he knew he'd never have her like this again.

Elena, however, wasn't interested in taking it slow.

Reaching for him, she pulled him back to her mouth, kissing him with such fervent need, it pushed all other thoughts from his mind. Her hands were between them, working their way down his chest to the zipper of his pants, undoing it before slipping inside. He groaned into her mouth and nearly bit her again as she wrapped her warm fingers around the hard length of him.

Ignoring her protests, he grabbed her hands and planted them on either side of her head. Smirking at the wild hunger raging in the dark pools of her eyes, he nipped at the delicious pout of her lips before saying. "Leave them there. Trust me, it will be worth it."

Elena raised a brow, ready to argue, but Damon stopped her, kissing her fully as he worked her into a frenzy. More than once, she stubbornly tried to touch him, but he kept her wrists pinned into place. Eventually, he left her mouth, working down her jaw, her throat. He worked a trail down the slope of her right breast, taking the tip in his mouth and working it to a hard tight bud as she squirmed beneath him. Switching sides, he lavished the left with the same attention.

Letting go of her wrists, he glanced up, but with the promise of what was to come, she kept them in place. Grinning, he returned his attention to her body, trailing kisses over her quivering stomach, past her navel to the edge of her pajama bottoms. Slipping his fingers beneath the fabric, he began inching them down, sampling every inch of newly exposed flesh. He could smell her arousal and his mouth watered at how good he knew she would taste. Images flashed through his mind of the things he could show her, the ways he could make her scream his name, begging and pleading for more.

Easing the pajama bottoms over her hips, he stripped them down her legs and tossed them aside. Finally she was naked and he savored the sight, worshipping the perfection of her body. Kneeling between her legs, he pressed his lips to her inner thigh, just above her knee, slowly working his way closer and closer to her center. By the time he got there, he found her wet and ready and exactly as he'd imagined. Taking pleasure in her near frantic cries and knowing he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer, he savored the moment, tasting the most intimate part of her. Using his lips, his tongue, his teeth, he pushed her higher and higher until she tumbled over the edge.

"Damon…please," she begged when she'd come down enough to form words, clawing at his shoulders in a vain attempt to drag him back up her body.

Glancing up at her, he smirked. "Please what?"

Bracing herself up on her elbows, she glared down at him, but the fire in her eyes hadn't abated. If anything the desire seemed to burn hotter. "Please, don't be an ass."

Chuckling, he retraced his path up her stomach, over her breasts and all the way up her throat to murmur in her ear. "You shouldn't be in such a hurry. That was barely a taste of the things I could do to you."

"Later," she promised, scrambling for his pants and helping him to strip them off. Grabbing his face with one hand, she reached between them, making him groan as she stroked the impossibly hard length of him. "You can show me later."

The way she was touching him made it impossible to resist. Damon kissed her again, sighing into the now familiar contours of her mouth as they settled into the mattress. Curving a hand over her hip and around her upper thigh, he drew her leg up as he settled himself against her hot, wet core. With what little remained of his restraint, he pulled away, bracing himself on an elbow and gazed down at her.

"Be sure," he murmured, giving her one last chance to do the smart thing even though he doubted either one of them had the strength to stop what was about to happen.

Elena looked at him without fear or hesitation. Swallowing, she nodded. "Yes."

Watching her carefully, he guided himself inside her. Elena's eyes widened at the sensation, her pulse quickening. Her hair fell away from her shoulder and Damon's gaze was drawn to the twin pinpricks on her neck. Giving in to the urge, he lowered his lips to them, brushing the gentlest of kisses against her abused flesh.

Slowly, he began to move inside of her, reveling in her gasping breaths as she sunk her fingers into his hair and pulled his mouth back to hers. She kissed him with a desperate hunger that spurred him to move faster, pushing her once again to the heights she'd only just descended.

They found their rhythm easily, moving as if they'd come together as one a million times before, as if it was meant to be. She reached for his hand, lacing her fingers through his and whimpering his name as the tether between them wound tighter.

All the doubts, warnings and reasons why they shouldn't faded as Damon lost himself in Elena. Sinking deeper with every stroke, he couldn't tell where his body ended and hers began. Every place they touched stoked the fire raging inside him, until he was burning with a need that nobody else could sate. One moment, he wanted to rush to the exquisite end, the next he wanted to make it last forever. With everything he had, everything he was, he wanted her.

Elena came only moments before he did, her body arching hard against him from below as her nails dug into his back. Damon captured her cry of ecstasy with his mouth, indulging in one last kiss before he buried his face in her shoulder and let go.


	17. Bad Timing

Chapter Seventeen – Bad Timing

Racing through the underbrush, Tyler listened for sounds of Adrian's pursuit with one goal in mind: save Caroline. His misguided loyalty to a man he'd just met could cost him his best friend, and mentally he cursed himself, even as he dragged Caroline through the forest, heedless of the direction.

"Stop," Caroline commanded suddenly, bringing him up short in the middle of a deep thicket. "Tyler, we have to stop. We're running in circles."

"I know," Tyler replied, panting as he scanned the forest in every direction. The thick canopy of leaves blocked out the light of the stars, turning the woods into a shadowed death trap. Other than his heavy breathing, the night was silent, giving no indication that they had escaped. "Can you hear him?"

"We need to get back to the car and get the hell out of here," she whispered fiercely, ignoring the question.

"I am all for that," he agreed, raising a brow. "Any ideas which way?"

Caroline looked around helplessly. "Turning into a vampire didn't enhance my sense of direction."

A branch snapped to Tyler's left and he tensed, grabbing Caroline and shoving her behind him. The shadows seemed to thicken as he stared into the abyss. He felt blind, completely disoriented and more panicked by the second.

"He's here," Caroline whispered, her lips brushing his ear as she clung to his shoulders. He turned his head to look at her, finding her eyes wide with fear and uncertainty. He had no idea what a hybrid's bite would do to a vampire and he didn't want to find out.

"You need to get out of here," he murmured, facing her and keeping his voice low as he took her hand. "Caroline, you have to run."

"What about you?"

"I'll distract him," he said, his pulse racing faster with each moment that she lingered. He had to save her. He refused to watch her die. "I'm not letting him bite you, so go. I'll be fine."

"You don't know that," she said through gritted teeth, glaring at him. "You don't know anything about hybrids. _I _don't know anything about hybrids. Adrian's bite could kill you, too."

"He already bit me," Tyler reminded her, gesturing to his forearm. The wound had closed and was healing without complication.

"I'm _not_ leaving you," she stubbornly declared, staring at him as she wasted precious seconds of escape time.

Tyler scowled, having no way of forcing her to go. She was stronger than him, faster and much more comfortable in her supernatural skin. Desperate, he tried to reason with her. "Caroline, please-."

Suddenly, Adrian burst through the underbrush behind Caroline, hitting her in the shoulders and knocking her to the ground. Half-turned and nearly rabid, he snarled as she fought back, twisting beneath him. The hybrid's jaws snapped at her throat, matching her strength as they grappled for dominance. Tyler had no hope of besting him, but he leapt onto the creature's back anyway, wrapping an arm around his neck and squeezing.

The pressure choked off Adrian's primal growls, enraging the half-crazed animal. Rearing back, he threw Tyler off balance, sending both men crashing to the ground. Within seconds, the hybrid overpowered him, flipping him flat on his back in the thick brambles. Branches and thorns ripped at his skin, but the slight pain was nothing compared to the bloodlust glowing in Adrian's eyes.

_At least Caroline can get away, _he thought, his arms strained with the effort to keep the snarling, snapping jaws at bay, even as the hybrid's razor sharp teeth reached for his neck, closing the gap.

Abruptly, Adrian's predatory growl shifted to a howl of extreme pain. It ripped through the night as he went rigid for a brief moment before collapsing into a motionless heap. Stunned, Tyler lay panting on the ground for a few moments before shoving the body's dead weight aside to climb shakily to his feet.

"Damon was right," Caroline murmured as she stared at something dark and dripping in her hand. "That wasn't hard at all."

"Caroline?"

Blinking, she looked up at the sound of her name. At first, she didn't seem to recognize him and in those few seconds Tyler realized that the oddly shaped lump was Adrian's heart. His eyes widened as he looked back at the body on the ground, noting the ragged hole in its back.

"Caroline," he repeated, taking a few steps closer as he reached for her. In a flash, she was back, tossing aside the bloody organ and grabbing him by the shirt with her other hand.

Tyler's eyes went wide as she pulled him into a kiss, but he only had a second to wonder at her actions before losing himself completely in the pressure of her lips against his. He'd been fantasizing about this moment since he'd returned to Mystic Falls, but her previous rejection hadn't made him eager for a repeat performance.

"What was that for?" he asked breathlessly when they came apart.

"Because we could have died and missed our chance," she replied, eyes half closed as she continued to grip his shirt. "Because I've been wanting to since you came back to town."

"So have I," he admitted, unable to look away from her mouth as it curved into a delighted smile. "Every day."

Leaning closer, he was overwhelmed by the scent of her as her lips brushed against his. Her breath whispered across his senses as she asked coyly. "Then why the hell have we been wasting all this time?"

"I have no idea," he replied with a grin as she kissed him again.

* * *

><p>Alaric's eyes were gritty from a lack of sleep as he pulled into the motel parking lot and claimed a space next to Damon's Camaro. Twisting the key to kill the engine, he glanced in the rearview mirror, noting that Bonnie and Jeremy were still asleep. In the silence, he briefly considered the idea of passing out for awhile himself. They'd made good time and the traffic in Savannah had been light. Damon wasn't expecting them for another two hours – giving him plenty of time to catch up on the sleep he'd missed while Bonnie had been driving and loudly discussing with Jeremy the subtleties of cursing Klaus. Around the time she had declared with certainty that she could convince the witches to help her, he'd faded into a restless slumber. The plan had sounded so easy that it had made him wary, knowing that the best laid plans were always the ones that went horribly awry.<p>

Knowing he wouldn't sleep until he'd drunken himself into a stupor or they arrived back in Mystic Falls with everyone accounted for, Alaric quietly opened the door and slipped out of the driver's seat. Closing it with equal care, he studied the two story motel, easily finding the corner room on the second level he assumed to be Damon and Elena's. Painted a pristine white like the rest of the motel, an exterior staircase led directly to their door.

He took the stairs slowly, stopping halfway to stare at a dark brown smear that looked a lot like dried blood on one of the railings. Further inspection revealed several more stains causing his chest to tighten with a vague uneasiness. Glancing at the closed door, his hunter's instinct searched for signs of distress as he took the rest of the stairs two at a time.

Pounding on the door, he called. "Damon? Elena? It's Ric. Are you in there?"

For what felt like hours, he heard nothing and the uneasiness intensified. The doorknob spun uselessly in his hand as he gripped it, but the deadbolt held strong. He was considering throwing his weight against the door and breaking in just as he heard a muffled curse through the thin walls.

"Everything okay?" he asked loudly, listening intently.

"Get dressed," Damon's voice was low, urgent and Alaric could only assume meant for Elena as he heard more rustling from inside the room. Suddenly, the deadbolt was being flipped and he took a step back, preparing for the door to open.

"Damon, wait," Alaric could just make out Elena's whispered voice on the other side of the door. "We need to talk about this."

"No, Elena," Damon replied. "We'll talk about it later, just…_get dressed_."

Alaric frowned at the exchange as the chain scraped against the track and the door opened. He caught a glimpse of only one unmade bed and Elena, wrapped in a sheet, ducking into the bathroom as Damon slipped outside, shutting the door firmly behind him.

"You're early," Damon stated flatly, stepping into the sunshine as he pulled a grey, long-sleeved shirt over his head.

"Yeah…apparently," Alaric replied, noting the vampire's bare feet as he made his way to the railing. The uneasiness gave way to suspicion. "How's Elena?"

Damon didn't reply right away, staring at the closed door as if he could see inside the room. After a moment, he briefly glanced at Alaric before looking over his shoulder and studying the parking lot. "She's fine. Where are Jeremy and the witch?"

"In the car. Sleeping," he said, crossing his arms and joining him at the railing. "What happened to the door?"

"Lost the key," Damon said noncommittally.

"Uh huh," Alaric said as his suspicions solidified and the pieces began falling into place. The muffled voices, the unmade bed, Elena wrapped in a sheet and Damon's hurried, half-dressed exit as he tried to keep Alaric from getting a look inside all pointed to one thing. Shaking his head, he couldn't stop his snort of amused disbelief. "You are a fucking masochist."

He thought Damon would play dumb, but the vampire surprised him as, scowling, he squinted into the sun and muttered. "No shit."

"What the _hell _were you thinking?" the hunter demanded. Leave it to Damon to make a complicated situation one hundred times worse in the most ridiculous way possible. "Wait. Never mind. I know what _you _were thinking, what the hell was _she _thinking?"

"Okay, Ric," Damon snapped, glowering at the other man. "We're done now."

"You did find Stefan, right?" Alaric continued, ignoring his agitation as he tried to figure out exactly how stupid his friend had been. "And Elena knows?"

"One more word, and I'm going to kill you."

"You know, I thought _I _made stupid choices," Alaric said, ignoring Damon's threats. "But sleeping with Elena while you try to get Stefan back deserves some kind of award."

Damon's grin was predatory, as he ventured closer. "I'm going to take your ring and then I'm going to kill you."

Ric narrowed his eyes, noting his friend's expression. Beneath the seething anger in Damon's tone, there was a poorly masked emotion in his eyes. Satisfied, he stated definitively. "At least you have the good sense to be unhappy about it."

The door abruptly opened and Elena stepped outside. "Unhappy about what?"

"Nothing," Damon said with a tight lipped smile, avoiding her gaze. Elena frowned slightly before turning to Alaric.

"It's good to see you, Ric," she said, offering him a bright smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"You too," he nodded, doing his best to keep his features neutral.

"Where are Jeremy and Bonnie?" she asked as she began to pull her hair back to put it into a pony tail. Damon's eyes went wide and he grabbed her wrist, but not before Alaric noted the two marks on her throat.

"They're in the car," Damon said, giving her a meaningful look as his gaze, dropped to her neck. Elena started, shooting a guilty look toward Alaric as she ran a hand through her hair, artfully arranging it to hide the bite mark. Placing a hand on the small of her back, Damon ushered her toward the stairs. "Why don't you go wake them up?"

"Sure," she nodded, hurrying down the stairs. Alaric waited until she was out of earshot before opening the door of their room and stalking inside.

"You son of a bitch," he declared as Damon followed him inside and closed the door. He stared for a minute at the newly made bed before whirling around and throwing a solid right hook at the vampire's jaw. He watched in satisfaction as Damon's head whipped to the side with the force of the blow.

"What the hell?" he protested, staring at Alaric as if he'd lost his mind. The hunter knew Damon wouldn't give him the chance to take another swing, but he'd made his point.

"It wasn't enough to fuck her, you had to drink from her, too?" Alaric exclaimed, righteous indignation flowing through him. Damon's eyes widened at the accusation and he shoved Alaric halfway across the room. The human hit the floor and continued to roll, colliding with the wall. Immediately, he jumped to his feet and faced down the wary vampire.

Alaric was nobody's role model, but with Jenna gone, he felt responsible for Elena and Jeremy. They were alone and clearly vulnerable – apparently, even to those who claimed to care about them. Shaking his head in disgust, he glared at the vampire. "I never thought you'd be that desperate."

"_Desperate?" _Damon repeated, snorting in derision. "Please."

"What'd you do, Damon?" Alaric asked, angry enough to taunt a being that could rip him apart with his bare hands. "How'd it happen? Did you screw her before you drank her blood or after?"

Moving closer, Damon began to lose patience. "Ric, I wasn't kidding. I _will _kill you."

"Does she even know what happened? Any of it?" he demanded, ignoring the threats that were no longer idle. "Or did you just…compel her?"

"Shut. The fuck. _Up_," Damon ordered through clenched teeth, grabbing Alaric by the throat and pinning him to the wall as his patience reached its end. Up close, his eyes blazed with an icy fury. "She fucking offered."

"She _what_?" Alaric replied, holding on to a shred of dignity by refusing to struggle against the iron grip around his throat. He knew he was no match for the vampire, not without careful planning and the arsenal of weapons he had stashed in the SUV.

"It's _Elena, _Ric," Damon snapped, more insulted than angry now. "You really think I'd be _that_ stupid?"

Alaric wanted to believe that there was a line Damon wouldn't cross, but he'd watched the vampire self-destruct more times than he could count. Holding up his hands, he said. "You're a vampire. You slept with her. What am I supposed to think?"

"Fuck you," Damon tightened his grip fractionally before unceremoniously releasing his throat and letting him drop to the floor. Scowling, he stalked to the window.

"I need a drink," Alaric mumbled, rubbing his sore throat. "It's five o'clock somewhere, right?"

Damon said nothing, as he peered through the blinds. "They're coming up. Look, Ric, I'm going to say this once. What happened between Elena and I is between us. If you bring it up again, I will end you. Got it?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever," Ric said, bristling at his condescending tone. "Just remember that I spent a lot of time hunting vampires – successfully – before I met you. I'm not completely useless and if you hurt her I won't be the only one gunning for your ass."

"If I hurt Elena, you won't need anyone else." Holding up his ring and letting it flash in the light. "I'll do it myself."

* * *

><p>Nodding her head and smiling, Elena sat backwards in the front passenger's seat of the SUV, listening to Bonnie and Jeremy's story of what they'd discovered in Missouri. In tandem, they explained how the witch had modified a tracking spell to find the vampires and had inadvertently stumbled upon the ancient books hidden in the wall of an antique shop. Speaking a mile a minute, her brother and best friend relayed the details with the enthusiasm of a couple of twelve-year-olds describing a home run at a Little League game. Elena did her best to follow along, but her focus kept wandering, along with her gaze, to the second floor of the motel and the closed door Damon and Alaric had disappeared behind.<p>

_I slept with him. I had sex with Damon._

She pressed her fingertips to her lips as Bonnie and Jeremy continued talking like nothing had happened – like nothing had _changed_ – when everything had. By cheating on Stefan with Damon, she'd committed the one crime that could do more damage than a litany of sacrifices, werewolf bites and deranged Originals. She was as bad as Katherine – hell…she was _worse. _Unlike the five hundred year old vampire, she had sworn she would never play the brothers against each other. And that wasn't even the extent of her sins. The guilt and shame she was feeling came from the fact that she didn't regret last night.

At all.

Obviously, the timing had been wrong and in the harsh light of day she understood that some of the unbridled passion and need between them had stemmed from the blood exchange. That knowledge aside, the feelings she'd been ready to confess to Damon were still there. She loved him and unexpectedly falling into bed with him hadn't changed that. She only wished she would have told him how she really felt _before _she slept with him. Now there was no telling what kind of mess she'd created. _I should have stuck to my plan, _she lamented for the millionth time. Damon would have survived without the blood and she could have told him everything.

"Hey, Earth to Elena," Jeremy said, nudging the back of her seat with his foot. "You in there?"

"What?" Elena started, making a conscious effort to focus on her friends even though her mind was back in the motel room. She gave them a tired smile as she apologized. "I'm sorry, guys… I'm a little distracted this morning."

"Hey, it's okay," Bonnie said, offering her a look of sympathy. "It must have been really hard seeing Stefan and not being able to help him."

"Yeah," she nodded, twisting the cuff of her long sleeved shirt between her fingers. An image of Stefan's black, soulless eyes and his sharp fangs looming over her flashed through her mind and she shivered. "That was…tough."

"What happened?" Jeremy asked.

"Um…," Elena hesitated, wondering what they already knew. "Didn't, um…didn't Damon tell you?"

"Are you kidding?" Bonnie scoffed, raising a brow. "That would have involved actually speaking to us for more than five seconds. He just said you guys found Stefan and that he was in Savannah."

"Oh," she replied, her mind racing for a plausible and simple cover story. "Well, that's…that's really it. Damon got a tip of a, um, club Stefan had been seen at and we went. And we saw."

Jeremy began gathering their belongings. "And then what?"

"And then we left," she said, opening the car door and stepping down to the pavement. "Damon didn't want me anywhere near Stefan. Not unless he had backup."

That part at least, was true. Elena led the way as they made the short trip from the SUV to the stairs to their motel room. Bonnie fell into step beside her and asked softly. "So, has it been awful?"

Elena frowned, lifting her hand to tuck her hair behind her ear before stopping halfway as she remembered the bite marks. For a moment, the desire to know what Damon was thinking, how he was feeling, was so intense she couldn't breathe. Shaking her head, she asked. "What?"

"Spending all this time with Damon," the witch said, grimacing at the notion. "I know I'd be going insane."

"No, it hasn't been awful," she replied, rolling her eyes as they began to climb the stairs. Her hand drifted toward her throat, her fingertips grazing the two raised welts. He'd warned her that the blood exchange would be different, but she'd thought he meant more dangerous rather than the most erotic form of foreplay she'd ever experienced. Curling her fingers into fists to keep them from drawing more attention to her neck, she said. "It's been…interesting."

"Well, you're a better woman than me," Bonnie teased as they reached the second floor with Jeremy just a few steps behind. In front of the door, she paused and took Elena's hand. "Seriously, though, it's almost over. We'll save Stefan and kill Klaus and everything will go back to the way it used to be."

_Oh, I seriously doubt that, _Elena thought as tears filled her eyes. Smiling anyway, she reached for the doorknob, jumping in surprise as it was yanked from her grasp.

"Damon," she gasped, bringing a hand to her heart as he held her gaze.

"Damn, Elena, jumpy much?" Jeremy joked, brushing by her as he and Bonnie entered the motel room and Alaric and Damon stepped out.

Ignoring her brother, Elena frowned at the keys in Damon's hand. "Are you going somewhere?"

"Supply run," he replied shortly.

"We're going to break into some blood banks," Alaric added.

"You make it sound so illegal," the vampire rolled his eyes, turning toward the stairs.

"Damon, wait," she said, impulsively reaching for him as a sudden flash of panic swept through her. Confronted with his carefully guarded expression, however, she let go of his arm, tucking her hair nervously behind her ear. "Be careful."

Narrowing his eyes, he ruined her work, smoothing the long, dark brown lock back over the bite mark on her throat. Their bodies blocked his hands from view as he wrapped the hair around his finger. Glancing over Elena's shoulder, he said. "Hey, Witch. Make yourself useful and put a protection spell on this place until we come back."

"_Useful_?" Bonnie repeated, leaning against the doorway. "I've already come up with a plan to kill an Original. What have you accomplished in the past twenty-four hours?"

Elena's cheeks burned as Damon's gaze momentarily settled on her before locking eyes with the witch behind her. Raising a brow, he said. "You mean your amazing plan to re-curse Klaus? Yeah, get back to me when you actually know _how _to make that happen."

At Bonnie's cry of indignation, Ric called from halfway down the stairs. "Sorry, Bonnie. I already told him about it."

"And he's not impressed," Damon whispered conspiratorially, smirking as she retreated in a huff. Looking meaningfully at Elena, his grin faded as he tipped his head toward the door. "Lock it behind me."

Elena nodded, her stomach a tight knot of anxiety as she watched him descend the stairs and climb into the Camaro before retreating into the motel room and carefully securing the locks. For the first time in nearly two weeks, Damon wasn't there and she felt the loss acutely.

"Here," Bonnie said, shoving a dusty, crumbling book into Elena's hands the second she turned around. "Take a look at this while I do the protection spell. There might be something in it to help with the plan to kill Klaus and I'd love to use it to wipe that smug look off of Damon's face when he gets back."

"Okay," she replied, turning the ancient text over in her hands as she curled up on the bed next to the window overlooking the parking lot. Knowing that she'd be able to see the Camaro the second it pulled into the lot eased some of her worry.

"Hey, Elena," Jeremy said, frowning at her in concern from where he was kneeling on the carpet and arranging candles. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, Jer," she said, forcing a smile before settling back against the pillows. She opened the book and scanned the first page, pushing all thoughts of Damon and the fact she was very definitely _not _fine to the back of her mind.

* * *

><p>Gazing through the windows of a bar across the street from a cheap looking two-story motel, Katherine raised a brow. "You're sure that's the place?"<p>

Stefan took a sip of scotch as he nodded. "That's the place."

"I thought Damon would have better taste," she replied, cocking her head and eyeing the mundane structure with disdain. Without asking, she plucked Stefan's drink from his hand and took a sip.

Leaning over her shoulder, he wrapped a possessive arm around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest. Katherine smiled as his breath stirred the fine hair at her temple. "See that black SUV with the Virginia plates? That's the Gilbert's. Damon and Elena have reinforcements."

"Are you afraid?" she asked, searching his features for any hint of a lie.

"Afraid? No," he replied shaking his head as he rested his chin on her shoulder. Satisfied, Katherine focused on the motel again. "Teaming up with Damon is the best idea. I just…don't think he's going to be happy to see me."

"He's in Savannah to find you," she mused. "You're just giving him what he wants."

"After what happened with Elena, I think the only thing Damon wants is to use me as a coat rack," he chuckled darkly. Katherine tensed at the mention of her annoying human doppelganger. Finally, after over a century, she had Stefan exactly where she wanted him and rather than taking advantage, she was practically handing him back to his damn girlfriend. What the hell was her problem?

As she knocked back the rest of the scotch, the Camaro pulled into the parking lot. Grabbing his hand, she slid off the barstool. "Looks like the gang's all here. Time for a family reunion."

They waited in the shadows in front of the bar as Alaric headed for the motel office and Damon took to the stairs. Knocking on the door to the corner room, he ducked inside and a few moments later, ushered Bonnie and Jeremy out. The witch and the human leaned against the railing, oblivious to their audience, as Ric returned with a key and opened the door to the room next to Damon's.

"You ready?" Stefan asked, placing a hand on the small of her back. Every instinct told her teaming up with Damon was the right move, but that didn't mean she wanted to do it. "Katherine?"

"Let's go," she said, leading the way across the parking lot, the street and finally up the stairs to stand just outside of Damon's room. Silently, she glanced back at Stefan and placed her hand on the door. It opened a couple of inches at her touch and voices from within carried out into the night.

"We need to talk," Elena whined, making Katherine curl her lip in annoyance.

"No, I don't think we do," Damon argued.

"I know we don't have time to talk about everything, but I just…need to say one thing," Elena insisted, pausing for a moment before saying in a rush. "I don't regret it. Any of it."

Katherine's eyes widened at the suspicious confession and a grin curved her lips as she resisted the urge to check Stefan's reaction. This family reunion had just gotten a hell of a lot more interesting.

* * *

><p>With a mix of dread and anticipation, Damon climbed the stairs leading to his motel room. The supply run had taken longer than expected and while he would have rather broken into the blood banks after dark, waiting would have meant running the risk of some new catastrophe developing and delaying his plans.<p>

And he had no intention of _ever _drinking from Elena again.

After coming to blows, Ric hadn't been in a very talkative mood and the long day had given Damon plenty of time to contemplate how thoroughly and completely he'd fucked things up the night before. While the moments that he and Elena had spent alone together since waking up that morning had been brief, they had already proven that things between them would never be the same.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered, pausing outside the room as he steeled himself to face Elena again. It was impossible to be around her and not think about the way she'd tasted and felt in his arms. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door.

Bonnie appeared almost instantly and he took some satisfaction in needling her. "Did you even check to see who I was before you just…threw open the door?"

She rolled her eyes and walked away as he entered the room. Automatically, his eyes found Elena, asleep on the bed by the window, a book clutched tightly to her chest.

"Took you guys long enough," Jeremy said. "Where's Ric?"

"Getting us our own room," Alaric replied, appearing in the doorway with key in hand.

"Thank god," Bonnie said, sighing dramatically. Smirking at Damon as she and Jeremy gathered their things, she added. "Sharing a room with you is kind of my worst nightmare."

"We have something in common after all," Damon replied, holding the door open for them and ushering them out. Leaving it unlocked, he tossed his keys on the dresser and almost reluctantly made his way to the bed where Elena slept. Sinking to the mattress, he gently pulled the book from her hands and studied her. Hesitantly, his hand drifted to her face and he ran a finger down her smooth cheek.

She was so beautiful it hurt.

After a few moments, her brow furrowed and she slowly opened her eyes, blinking away the fog of sleep. She didn't seem surprised to find him there, simply stating. "You're back."

This close, her scent wrapped around him and the utter perfection of every curve of her body nearly drove him insane. Ric was wrong; masochism didn't even begin to cover it. Swallowing, he shrugged. "Sorry it took so long."

Struggling to a seated position, she glanced out the window and noted the lengthening shadows. She brought a hand to her forehead as she frowned, asking. "What time is it?"

"Almost sunset," Damon replied as he indulged himself and smoothed her disheveled hair, tucking it behind her ear. He'd vividly imagined being with Elena countless times but even his wildest dreams failed to come close to the reality of actually having her. He was fucking ruined. For the rest of eternity any woman he had, any blood he tasted, would pale in comparison next to his memories of her.

_Because that's all it will ever be, _he thought, watching as she shook off the remaining remnants of sleep. Memories. He knew how Elena worked and at that very moment she was probably wrestling with regret. Later, when they were able to talk about what had happened, she would let him down gently, maybe even fearfully because of the way he'd reacted the last time. He could hear the conversation now. She cared about him. She _liked _him, but she loved Stefan and always would.

No matter how many brick walls his brother threw her into.

Ric was right. He _was _a fucking masochist.

"I'm glad you're back," she said earnestly, her full lips curving into a small smile. Looking around the room, she asked. "Where is everybody?"

Fighting against the anger and disillusionment warring in his head, Damon curled his fingers into fists. Clearing his throat, he tipped his head toward the opposite wall. "Room next door." Holding up the ancient text, he asked. "What's this?"

"Some ancient spell book or something," Elena said, scooting closer so she could look over his shoulder as she began flipping through the crumbling pages. "Bonnie wanted me to look through it and find something we could use to curse Klaus, but it's not even in English. There's an interesting picture in here, though."

Damon stared in surprise at the faded sketch that, at first glance, looked exactly like Elena. It could have been a picture of Katherine from before she was turned, but the book was too old and there was something about the features that wasn't quite right. The girl in the sketch had none of Katherine's haughtiness and the mischievous glint in her eye bore no malice. The innocence in her smile spoke only of good intentions, regardless of outcome. "Who is this?"

"Ric thinks it's the original Petrova," Elena replied, her chin practically resting on his shoulder as she pressed against his back. The heat of her body bleeding through his shirt was the most exquisite of tortures and he turned his head to look at her just as she lifted her gaze from the book to meet his eye. Something in those deep brown depths shifted and Damon sensed what was coming before she murmured.

"We need to talk."

Deliberately breaking the spell between them, he looked away and rose to set the book on the nightstand. "No, I don't think we do."

"I know we don't have time to talk about everything, but I just…need to say one thing," she argued, following him as he retreated to the middle of the room. Taking his hand, she licked her lips, drawing his gaze to her mouth like a beacon. "I don't regret it. Any of it."

Damon stared at her, speechless as she held his gaze. He searched for deception, fear, anything that would give him some familiar ground to stand on, but he found only honesty in those wide, brown eyes. Transfixed, he lifted his hand hesitantly to her face, trailing his knuckles down her cheek and past her jaw before rubbing them delicately over the bite mark on her neck. Only one truth stood out to him in that moment. No matter how much more of a hell his life became, he couldn't regret what had happened between them. For one night, she'd been his and whether it was the blood or misplaced gratitude for saving her life, nothing could take that away.

"Well, isn't this cozy," a snide voice announced from the doorway. Elena gasped, tightening her grip on his hand until her nails dug into his flesh. He'd been so wrapped up in _her_, he hadn't even heard the door opening. "See, I told you. Damon took _excellent _care of her."

Leaning casually against the doorframe, Katherine smirked as Stefan lingered just over her shoulder. Raising a brow, the vampire said. "Happy Birthday, Elena."


	18. Fractures

_AN: Wow. The response to the last chapter was amazing. Thank you so much! _

Chapter Eighteen - Fractures

Staring at her doppelganger and the man she was supposed to love, Elena feared her brain might short circuit. Her lungs seized up, trapped in a vise of shock as her heart beat furiously against her ribs. Stefan's appearance the other night had been such an anomaly, having never crossed her mind that he might just…show up on her very doorstep. Especially since he'd been so…_demonstrative _last time in how he did _not _want her help.

He stared at her now, betraying no emotion with his piercing gaze, only wary curiosity, and she found she couldn't look away. Standing next to her, Damon let go of her hand, tension radiating off his body. Without that grounding connection, Elena thought she might pass out from sheer sensory overload.

Katherine grinned, sauntering into the room with predatory grace. Raising a brow, she asked innocently. "It is your birthday, isn't it Elena? I took a guess that we might share the same _special _day, although I haven't celebrated mine in years. Look, I even brought you a present. Why don't you come in, Stefan? Wish Elena a happy birthday."

Stefan's gaze shifted to Damon, the wary curiosity morphing into suspicion. "I doubt I'm welcome."

"Please," Katherine rolled her eyes. "I _know _I'm not welcome. But I've found that when you come bearing gifts, people are much more hospitable."

Stefan glanced at Katherine before bowing his head and taking a step forward, over the threshold and into the room. For a second, Elena felt like she was looking at the old Stefan and her paralysis eased.

Then he looked up, allowing the light to hit his eyes.

In an instant, she was back in the alley, pinned to the brick wall and caught between fear and the memories of a love she was trying desperately to feel. Stefan's flat, dispassionate gaze was the same, hiding a monster ready to flip at the slightest provocation.

"Elena," he began, taking an additional step forward as he stared at her. Although there was nothing overtly aggressive in his manner, instinct forced her to back away. It was just a single step as she brought her hand to her mouth in an attempt to stifle any sounds of distress, but it was more than enough.

She had forgotten she was in a room full of vampires.

She hadn't fully completed her retreat when Damon took action. Time slowed as he registered her fear, and hurtled himself toward his brother, propelling him through the doorway. Crashing through the wooden railing running the length of the second floor walkway, the Salvatores plummeted to the ground. Metal groaned and glass shattered as Elena and Katherine stared at each other in mutual shock.

The vampire blurred out of the room, Elena following close behind. The door to Alaric, Bonnie and Jeremy's room opened and she heard her brother ask. "What the hell was that?"

Elena didn't have the time to explain as she caught up with Katherine where the vampire had stopped halfway down the stairs. Damon and Stefan had landed on top of a car, collapsing the roof with their combined momentum and weight. Pieces of the white railing were scattered on the ground, mingling with shards of glass from the broken windshield. The brothers were a blur of fists and feet as they went after one another and Elena couldn't tell which one had the upper hand.

"Do something," she hissed at Katherine, finally finding her voice.

The vampire scoffed, bemused as she watched the melee with fascination and a hint of sadness. "Only an idiot would get between the Salvatores when they're fighting over a woman."

"They're going to kill each other," Elena insisted, watching in growing horror as Stefan slammed Damon to the pavement. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Alaric, Bonnie and Jeremy standing near the edge of the walkway, focused on the chaos going on beneath them.

"I doubt it," Katherine replied dispassionately. Damon had Stefan by the throat, pinning him to one of the support beams. The wood creaked and groaned under the pressure as the elder Salvatore threw a punch hard enough to dislocate his younger brother's jaw.

Doors were opening along the first floor as curious motel patrons began investigating the noise. Elena grabbed Katherine's arm. "Someone is going to call the police."

"So we'll compel them," she replied, yanking her arm out of Elena's grasp. Panicked, she tried to move around her look-a-like, intent on breaking up the fight herself. Katherine whirled around, bracing her arms on either side of the railing, blocking her path. "Do you have a death wish? I know you think that Stefan and Damon are just humans with a weird appetite, but they're not. _We're _not. If you go down there and think they'll be able to tell the difference between you and me, you're going to end up very dead."

Elena lifted her chin, raising a brow. "Isn't that what you want? Then you can have both of them to yourself again, to torture for eternity."

"I'm not the one torturing them, Elena," Katherine replied, her eyes blazing with anger. "I'm not the one who can't decide. They're not fighting over _me_ anymore."

Helpless, Elena turned back to the fight, grimacing as the brothers continued to trade the advantage back and forth. Stefan gained the upper hand, throwing Damon to the bottom of the stairs before blurring over and aiming a vicious kick at his midsection that shattered ribs. She cried out, bringing a hand to her mouth as Damon struggled to get back to his feet.

In the gathering twilight, Stefan grinned, showing off his descended fangs. "Not so easy to beat now, am I, Damon?"

"You know…I used to think…you'd be more fun when you weren't going all Reverend Dimmesdale on me," he coughed, spitting up blood. Even though Elena knew he'd be fine, that the broken ribs and punctured lung or whatever Stefan had mangled had already healed, seeing Damon in pain hurt. Reaching beneath the step, he grabbed something before lurching to his feet. "But I was wrong. You're an insufferable, entitled bastard no matter what diet you're on."

With an unexpected burst of speed, Damon lunged at Stefan, taking back the advantage and bending him backwards over the dented hood of the car they'd landed on. Raising his right hand, Elena saw what he'd grabbed from under the stairs.

"Katherine, you have to stop this," she demanded as Damon brought down the broken piece of wooden railing right as Stefan rolled out of the way. It punched through the metal, leaving a neat, square hole.

"Once they get it out of their system, they'll calm down and we can get on with the regularly scheduled Elena show," Katherine said, sighing dramatically as she studied her nails.

Fed up with the vampire's disinterest as the men they both loved tried to rip each other apart, Elena grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to pay attention. "That railing they broke through was made out of wood. There are stakes scattered all over the ground. Do you want to take the chance that they're both rational enough not to kill each other by accident?"

Elena's words had the desired effect. Katherine's eyes went wide as she faced the brothers now grappling on the ground. Damon wedged the stake between them, causing Stefan to roar in pain as it sank a few inches into his chest. Undaunted, the younger Salvatore set his sights on a splintered section of the railing lying upside down on the pavement. All he had to do was roll Damon to the left and the jagged pieces would rip through his back, straight into his heart.

Unable to breathe, Elena watched Stefan maneuver Damon closer to permanent death. Leaning over the railing, she screamed. "Stefan, no!"

"Damon, stop!" Katherine cried at exactly the same time.

Their combined voices cut through the brothers' all consuming haze of violence and destruction, freezing them in place. Damon's grip on the stake slackened as he looked toward the stairs, his eyes widening at the sight of the two women – the same woman – staring back at him. Ignoring Katherine's irritated visage, he focused on Elena, noting the tears in her eyes. As his world slowly expanded beyond the overwhelming hatred and desire to kill his brother, he wondered which one of them she'd been crying for.

Shoving Stefan off of him, he cursed as pain radiated down his arm. Sometime during the fight his shoulder had been dislocated and he was only noticing it now as the adrenaline and anger abated. Ignoring Katherine as she ran down the steps to fawn over his brother, Damon struggled to his knees. The shoulder would heal in a matter of seconds, he just needed to…

"Fuck," he swore, pressing the heel of his hand against the joint and shoving it back into place. Almost instantly, the bright flash of pain faded as he shook out his arm.

"Nice work, Damon," Katherine sneered, wrapping an arm around Stefan. His younger brother was breathing hard, leaning against the mangled hood of the car they'd landed on and holding a hand to the wound near his heart.

Damon scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Give me a break, he's fine."

"It's not healing," Stefan grimaced as Katherine ripped open his bloody t-shirt to get a better look at the wound. Thirty seconds ago, Damon had been intent on killing Stefan, right there in the motel parking lot, for a litany of sins – not just for what he'd done to Elena in the alley, but for leaving her and forcing them all to go on this stupid manhunt. Now, he was still too pissed at Stefan to care if he was in pain, but if the bastard actually died – in front of Elena – he'd never come back from that.

"Stefan," Elena said, advancing a single step. Damon swallowed, glancing at her from the corner of her eye. She was frozen, staring at his brother with an unreadable expression on her tear-stained features.

"Hold still," Katherine said as she opened the wound further. Choking back a growl of pain, Stefan put his fist through the dented, metal hood. In less than five seconds, she finished her exploration, pulling a splinter of wood out of the bloody hole and flicking it away in disgust. Instantly, the wound began to heal and Damon released an audible sigh of relief. His brother wasn't going to die by his hand.

Not tonight, anyway.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded, anger replacing his concern as he advanced on the unwelcome pair.

"I thought you were looking for me," Stefan said, taunting him as the debilitating pain faded and his strength returned. "That you wanted to help me."

"I got over it when you tried to put Elena through a goddamned brick wall," Damon replied, beyond caring if the entire world found out the extent of his brother's descent into the bloodlust. "You almost killed her."

A flash of something that might have been regret sparked in Stefan's eyes, fading away before he could know for sure. His brother smirked. "Come on, Damon. We all know you would never have let that happen. You probably jumped at the chance to play hero to _my girlfriend_."

"Shut up, both of you," Katherine snapped, dropping the hand that had been resting on Stefan's shoulder. Glaring in disgust, she crossed her arms and nodded toward the gathering crowd. "You can fight over Elena later. I'm not cleaning up your mess alone."

Glancing behind him, Damon noted the open motel room doors, the people peering through their curtains. _Son of a bitch. _Compelling every witness was going to suck.

Katherine grabbed Stefan by the elbow, hauling him away from the hood of the car and muttering something about taking the first floor. Damon said nothing as they disappeared, his gaze wandering back to Elena just in time to see her sink to a step, one hand clinging weakly to the railing.

Damon moved toward her, but Bonnie and Jeremy ran down the stairs, beating him to her side. He hesitated, wondering what the hell he was supposed to say to make everything alright. The attack had been a visceral reaction to the fear he'd sensed from her as Stefan had entered their room. Admittedly, it hadn't been the most rational attempted murder he'd ever committed, but when it came to Elena he'd never been completely rational. Protecting her had been his only thought as they'd tumbled through the railing to the car below. Even now, he wasn't sorry.

"Happy fucking birthday, Elena," he muttered bitterly, scowling at up at the sky.

"Wow," a new voice breathed in awe. Turning around, Damon found Caroline and Tyler approaching from the opposite end of the parking lot, surveying the damage with open astonishment. Meeting his gaze, the blonde raised a brow. "What'd we miss?"

* * *

><p>An hour later, as the owner of the car Damon and Stefan had totaled was having it towed away, Elena lingered near the doorway of Alaric, Bonnie and Jeremy's motel room. Everyone was there, listening to Katherine explain why they'd suddenly appeared without explanation.<p>

Everyone except Damon.

Glancing over her shoulder for the millionth time, Elena scanned the parking lot for the missing Salvatore. The sight of his car, parked between Tyler's jeep and the black SUV she and Jeremy shared, only served to irritate her already frayed nerves.

_Where the hell was he?_

She turned back to the room, trying to pay attention to what Katherine was saying, but she didn't care about Klaus's schemes. At the moment, the danger the Original posed paled in comparison to the threat standing ten feet away from her.

Stefan had barely spoken or looked at her since they'd convened. After Damon had so brazenly revealed what he'd done to her, the younger Salvatore had let Katherine do all of the talking. Her friends seemed to take this as some sort of mea culpa, an unspoken promise that he was there on his best behavior. On one level, Elena understood it, however she'd made the mistake of assuming Stefan would never hurt her before and nearly died because of it.

Stefan lifted his head, catching her staring and held her gaze. Elena's heart nearly stopped as she struggled to maintain her composure. Searching his face, she tried to find the boy she'd fallen in love with, to remember how she was supposed to feel when he looked at her and came away with nothing. Even if she hadn't been terrified, that Stefan just wasn't there.

Or maybe that Elena didn't exist anymore.

Eventually, Stefan looked away, coolly returning his attention to the conversation at hand. Katherine had moved on to Elijah and was fielding borderline hostile questions from Alaric and Bonnie on the traitorous Original's whereabouts and what purpose he could serve. Elena dropped her gaze to the floor, unconsciously easing further out into the fresh air. Bringing a hand to her neck, she ran her fingers lightly over the raised bite mark before catching herself and clenching her hand into a fist.

_Damon, where are you?_

Despite the fact that Elena was surrounded by friends who would protect her if Stefan flipped out again, she felt isolated and anxious without Damon there to protect her. At the same time, she was so angry with him – not just for starting that pointless, impulsive fight with Stefan, but for disappearing and leaving her alone – that she wasn't even sure she _wanted _to see him.

Bored with the conversation and tired of pretending to listen, Elena silently slipped out into the night. Angry tears stung her eyes as she passed the gaping hole in the railing on her way to the stairs. Motel management had blocked it off with yellow caution tape, leaving the ends fluttering in the gentle breeze. Nausea swept through her as she relived the moment Stefan had nearly ended Damon's life. By the time she had reached the bottom of the stairs and had sunk to the last step, she could barely breathe around the latent panic wrapping like a vise around her heart.

_Some birthday, _she thought. Nothing like cheating on your boyfriend and watching him almost kill his brother to start a new year.

"You really shouldn't be out here alone," Caroline said, breaking the silence of the evening as she descended the stairs at normal human speed.

"Caroline," Elena sighed, running her hand through her hair. "What are you doing out here?"

"I was given explicit instructions to keep an eye on you," her friend replied, taking a seat on the step just above hers.

"Let me guess," she said, resting her elbows on her knees and glancing over her shoulder. "Damon's orders?"

"Yup," the other girl's sunny disposition was in direct contrast to Elena's dark mood.

"If he's so concerned, then where the hell is he?" she demanded, glaring at the empty space where the fight had occurred. "Leave it to him to make a huge mess of everything and then leave us to clean up the pieces."

"It wasn't like that," Caroline argued, shaking her head of long blonde hair. "He was really upset the whole time we were compelling people. He said he'd be back in a while."

"Where'd he go?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "I think he just needed some space."

"Space?"

"Yeah, you know to calm down so he wouldn't do anything else stupid," she said, scooting down a step so they were at the same eye level. "You know how he gets when Katherine is around."

"Yeah, I do," Elena muttered, casting a dark look toward the second floor. Grudgingly, she admitted Damon's disappearing act was probably a smart move in light of everything that had happened, but it didn't make her feel any better. "He could have told me he was leaving."

Caroline raised a brow, propping her chin on her hand. "Why are you so worried about Damon?"

"I'm…not," Elena protested weakly, knowing she was exactly that. "I'm…annoyed."

"Because he told everybody what Stefan did to you?" Caroline guessed.

_Because he's not here to make sure it doesn't happen again,_ she thought, lowering her gaze to the pavement. The bigger pieces of shattered glass and twisted metal from the car had been cleaned up, but smaller shards still littered the pavement, glittering in the light. Elena stared at them and remained silent, doubting she could keep her voice from breaking.

"What's going on with you two?" Caroline asked suddenly, pulling Elena's hair over her shoulder to get a better look at her face.

"What do you mean?" Elena asked, avoiding her searching gaze.

Caroline shrugged. "Damon just made some weird comments before he left and Ric has been starring daggers at him all night. You're sitting here like you lost your best friend, even though your _boyfriend _is back from the dark side. I don't know. It just makes me think something…_happened._"

Elena bit her lip as her eyes flooded with tears. Her anger toward Damon shifted, settling on the rightful target: herself. Blinking rapidly, she tried to keep her emotions under control as she looked at her friend. Elena's stomach dropped as guilt and shame made her cheeks burn. Caroline's steady gaze held no judgment, but there was suspicion there and a certainty that told Elena the blonde wasn't just guessing.

Suddenly, the weight of everything that had occurred – not just since Stefan had attacked her, but all the way back to the night Damon had nearly died – was simply too much to bear alone. Covering her face with her hands, Elena choked on a sob as she whispered. "I made a huge mistake."

In a torrent of words, Elena confessed everything to her best friend as Caroline wrapped an arm around her shoulders and listened in a way Elena never would have expected just a few months ago. Holding nothing back, she brought up the Crossroads and the kiss, Landis, the woman in white and the fight she had started out of fear. She told Caroline how Damon had shut down after that and how for three days, all her attempts to make it right only dug herself into a deeper hole. Finally, she got to the night Stefan had taken her from the parking lot just when she thought things were getting back to normal.

"I knew Damon would save me," she murmured as her tears slowed. Explaining this part was harder because putting words to the way he'd taken care of her, the way he'd made her feel didn't do it justice. Swallowing, she struggled to explain the moment Damon had fed on her. "He let me take too much blood and by the time I woke up, he needed to feed, but he wouldn't leave me. So, I…I made him drink from me."

"You _made _him?"

Nodding, she brushed her hair off her neck, letting her friend see the bite marks she'd kept hidden all day. "I pushed every button he had because I thought he was being so ridiculously stubborn, but…I didn't understand what it would be like."

Elena's cheeks burned, as she tried to explain one of the most erotically charged moments of her life. "When Damon…stopped, I was disappointed. I wanted more. I wanted it to keep going, but he was back in control. We both were…for a little while."

"'For a little while'?" Caroline repeated. "What does that mean?"

"We…I…," Elena closed her eyes, covering her face with her hands. "I slept with him."

For a moment, Caroline said nothing, leaving Elena to squirm as she awaited judgment. Peeking through her fingers, she watched as her friend nodded, saying carefully. "Okay. I get how you'd regret that."

"What? No!" Elena cried, shaking her head and grabbing the other girl's hand. "I don't regret being with Damon."

"But what about Stefan?" Caroline asked, confused once again. "I thought you said you'd made a mistake."

"My mistake was sleeping with Damon before I told him I wanted to, before I sorted things out with Stefan," Elena clarified. "It was the timing. I promised myself I wouldn't be like Katherine and play them against each other and that's exactly what I did."

"Okay, so…" Caroline paused, processing the myriad of revelations Elena had just thrown at her. "So, what are you gonna do?"

"I don't know."

"Well, who do you want to be with?"

Elena hesitated, the answer – at least in that moment – hovering on the tip of her tongue. What had happened between her and Damon in the past few months had changed who she was and there was no going back. Even if Stefan 'sobered' up and started drinking animal blood again, if she forgave him for nearly killing her in the heat of the bloodlust and they got back together, every time she kissed him, she'd be thinking of someone else.

_But am I ready to be with Damon? _

Glancing at her best friend, she lifted a shoulder. "I don't know."

* * *

><p>Damon hated cheap liquor, but at the end of the day, when his goal was to get as shitfaced as possible, it did the job. Sitting at the same bar where Elena had poured her heart out to him a mere three days ago, he finished his fifth glass of whiskey. Reaching for the bottle, he tipped more of the amber liquid into the plain tumbler and fervently wished being a vampire didn't make it so damn hard to get drunk.<p>

After compelling the motel guests to forget what they'd seen, he'd put some much needed distance between himself and his brother. Instinct had urged him to hunt and kill, to glut himself on blood and human fear, but he hadn't. He doubted he'd ever use bloody rampages as a coping mechanism again. Not because he'd turned over some new leaf, but because after tasting Elena, what the _hell _was the goddamn point? So, he'd walked and ran and burned off as much pent up rage toward Stefan and Katherine and himself and Elena as he could before returning to the motel as something resembling a rational human being.

Only to have the bottom drop out from under him. Again.

"_I made a huge mistake."_

Gulping down half the glass, Damon closed his eyes, trying to drown out the painful words. He'd expected that confession from Elena, had been waiting for it, really. It made a hell of a lot more sense than her bizarre 'no regrets' speech that Katherine and Stefan had interrupted, so when he'd overheard her and Caroline talking on the steps, he hadn't been surprised. He hadn't even bothered listening to the rest of the conversation. Instead, he'd silently retreated into the shadows where he belonged and had made a beeline for the bar. After the past few days, he'd earned a drink…or nine.

He should have done everybody a favor and just stayed the hell away.

The door to the bar opened and a familiar voice addressed him. "Are you going to stay here all night?"

"Fuck, Ric, what are you doing here?" Damon swore, glaring at the other man. "That text wasn't an invitation."

"Oh good, you're drunk already," Ric said with a rare grin, claiming the stool next to Damon and signaling the bartender for a glass. "This'll be fun."

"You're going to lecture me on drinking?" Damon raised a brow, finishing his sixth glass and immediately pouring his seventh. "Seriously?"

"Not as long as you share," he said, grabbing the bottle and immediately tipping a generous amount of whiskey into his own glass. "What are we drinking to?"

The alcohol was doing its job, causing Damon to smirk despite the laundry list of things that sucked about his life. "The usual."

"Ah, my favorites," Ric replied, holding up his drink. "Masochism and lost causes."

"Cheers," Damon replied, downing the entirety of his seventh drink in a single gulp. It burned as it went down, spreading through his body. He couldn't forget Elena, but for just a little while he could keep her at a distance. Rolling his empty glass between his palms, he eyed Ric. "So, you're speaking to me again?"

"I figured after your little performance, I might be the only one who was, so…yeah," he shrugged, studying the collection of empty and exotic liquor bottles lining the shelf along the ceiling. "Elena's fine, by the way."

"I didn't ask," Damon pointed out, grabbing the bottle with numb fingers, pleased to see he had to concentrate to keep all of the liquor in the glass this time.

"But you wanted to," the hunter said, taking another sip. "Caroline has been diligently following your orders to keep an eye on her. She's really upset that you're not back."

"Caroline?" Damon asked, playing dumb on purpose.

"_Elena_."

Damon said nothing, lifting his glass to stare into the dark brown liquid. "She doesn't need me, she's got Stefan back." He hadn't had enough whiskey to block out the pain _that_ knowledge caused.

"Actually, Stefan and Katherine are gone," Ric clarified, watching the vampire out of the corner of his eye. "With Klaus after her for this sacrifice thing, she wasn't looking to stay in Savannah. They're going to meet us back in Mystic Falls."

Damon closed his eyes. "_Fantastic_."

Finishing his drink, Ric, grabbed the bottle and poured himself another. He paused before asking. "So, Stefan really…threw Elena against a wall?"

"Yeah," Damon nodded, sipping his whiskey. "First he played with her, snapped her wrist, but he waited until I was there to start the real show."

"Why would he do that?"

"Because it's what Stefan does on human blood," he replied, scowling at his friend. Why was it so hard for everybody to believe? His brother's animal blood habit was an anomaly in the vampire world, not the rule. "It's like he's trying to make up for all the time he spent being _good _by torturing people with their worst nightmares. He probably let Elena think she was getting through to him, that he was happy to see her, just so he could watch her break when he turned on her. I'm _so_ glad he's back."

They drank in silence for a few moments, the alcohol blunting the sharp edges of Damon's anger surprisingly well, but having little effect on the pain and disappointment in his heart. Or what was left of it. He had never quite figured out that part of being undead. Reveling in the momentary distraction, he followed the train of thought. A stake through the heart would kill him, but he didn't have a pulse, so…how did that work? And what the hell did the stake even do? And why wood? Why not silver like werewolves?

"I think I'm going to leave," he announced suddenly.

"You want to go bar hopping?"

"No," Damon shook his head, running his fingers over the polished surface of the counter. The idea had entered his head and he'd voiced it without thinking, but it felt…right. "Town. Mystic Falls. When this is all over. I'm just gonna…I'm gonna go. I should have left after we opened up the tomb and Katherine wasn't there. I never planned on staying."

"Why did you?"

He smirked at the sheer depth of his predictability. "Because I'm a sucker for brunettes who are in love with my brother."

"Do you think Elena's going to go back to him after what he did to her?"

"Of course she will," Damon nodded, pouring more whiskey into his glass even though it was still half full. He repeated the words Stefan had caustically thrown at him while he had been torturing Elena. "If she can forgive me for killing Jeremy and all the other horrible things I've done to her, she can forgive him. He wasn't himself, you know. The _blood._"

Ric shrugged. "He seemed pretty in control back at the motel."

Damon frowned, admitting – at least to himself – that he'd seen it, too. Something was different about Stefan, even from the other night in the alley. Aside from the particularly douchey comments after the fight, he'd seemed…almost normal.

"Doesn't matter," Damon shook his head, taking a drink and savoring the way the alcohol burned down his throat. Elena's words rang in his ears for the millionth time since he'd heard them. _A huge mistake_, she'd called it. What they'd shared had been a mistake. Fuck. "I spent one hundred and fifty years pining for a woman who never loved me. I'm not going to spend the next eighty doing the same. Besides, Elena's life will be simpler without me in it. And that's what she wants. Normal, simple…_good." _

"Are you sure?" Ric pressed, earning him a scathing look from the vampire. Holding up his hands, he continued. "I'm just saying, things have changed between you two and I'm not the only one who sees it. What if you're wrong?"

For a brief, shining moment, Damon considered the idea that the conversation he'd heard between Caroline and Elena hadn't been what he'd thought. Hope cut through the alcohol, shredding the protective cocoon he'd so carefully created and causing a pain nearly as debilitating as the rejection he'd been running away from. With difficulty, he shut it down. That kind of thinking inevitably led to more heartache, and he'd had enough of _that _to last him several lifetimes.

Shaking his head, he finished his drink. Again. "No. It's Stefan. It'll always be Stefan."


	19. With Friends Like These

_AN: In a way I'm really glad I'm posting this after Thursday's ep. Because it was awesome and full of Delena goodness. In another way, I wish I'd posted this before Thursday's ep...because it was awesome and full of Delena goodness. ;p Is now a good time to mention I'm a total angst whore? Just wondering..._

_Thank you so much for the feedback! Enjoy the chapter and be sure to let me know what you think!_

Chapter Nineteen – With Friends Like These

Despite Caroline's promise, Damon had yet to return to the motel room.

Sitting on the bed with her knees pulled up to her chest, Elena stared blearily at the door and watched the sky outside the window change from pitch black to grey to the soft, light blue of morning. She'd spent the entire night on edge, annoyed and worried in equal measure, waiting for him to come back. Elena had accepted Caroline and Tyler's gracious offer to stay with her, but they'd fallen asleep around three in the morning while she'd remained desperately, agonizingly awake. By five, all she had wanted was for Damon to show his face. He didn't need to talk or explain his absence…he just needed to be okay.

Closing her eyes, she rested her forehead on her knees. Automatically, she groped by her hip for her cell phone, turning the device over in her hand as she tried to stifle the urge to call or text him. She'd already left him five voice mails and lost track of the number of texts. Every single one had gone unanswered.

Although on some level she'd understood Damon's need for distance after the fight with his brother, rationalizing his silence became impossible – especially after Stefan and Katherine had left for Mystic Falls and Elena's own level of exhaustion had reached an emotional breaking point. Whatever had been going on in his head, whatever demons he'd been wrestling with, she'd counted on him not to shut her out. Apparently, she'd been wrong.

Turning her head, Elena stared at Caroline and Tyler, wrapped in each other's arms and sleeping peacefully. Neither one had said much about their experience in Pennsylvania, but it was clear from the way they'd been acting that something had shifted in their relationship. A sensation uncomfortably close to jealousy swept through her as she recalled waking up that morning in Damon's arms.

In the moments just between sleep and full wakefulness, Elena had known exactly where she was and exactly whose arms had held her. Instead of shame or regret, she'd felt safe - at peace with the knowledge of what had happened between her and Damon. Then the sound of Alaric's voice and the pounding on the door had broken through, shattering that fragile moment and drowning her in guilt.

Her fearful agitation reached new heights when she looked at the clock and realized she hadn't heard from Damon in a full sixteen hours. Intent on waking everyone else up so that they could help her track him down, she grabbed her cell phone to call Alaric just as the door swung open to reveal Damon standing in the doorway. An intense relief coursed through her upon seeing him there, superseding everything else.

"Why the hell is this unlocked?" he demanded as he stepped inside.

Springing off the bed, she ran to him and grabbed his arms. "Are you okay?"

Behind dark sunglasses, Damon raised a brow, saying shortly. "I'm fine."

Elena stared at him, waiting for more as he easily broke her hold and brushed past her. Stunned, she stood dumbly for a few moments before whirling around. Heedless of Caroline and Tyler as they began to stir on the bed, she demanded. "That's it? I haven't seen you since you and Stefan nearly killed each other. I've been up all night, waiting for you to come back and all you can say is 'I'm fine'?"

Sparing her a glance over his shoulder, he shrugged. "I am. What else should I say?"

Locating his bag, Damon began throwing his belongings inside. Exhausted, angry, and suddenly fighting tears of embarrassment over her apparently misplaced concern, Elena caught her reflection in the mirror. Dark circles stood out prominently against her sallow skin. The clothes she'd worn the day before were a wrinkled mess and her hair was dull and listless. Somehow, she looked worse than she felt.

"So," Caroline said, her bright voice contrasting sharply with the tension in the room. "Are we heading home today?"

"Yeah," Damon replied, ducking into the bathroom as he added. "You should start packing."

Elena said nothing, unable to move as she struggled with an anger she hadn't felt toward Damon since…ever. Turning around, she blocked Damon's path as he tried to leave the bathroom. Despite the relatively dim light of the room and the even deeper gloom of the bathroom, he was still wearing his sunglasses. Angrily, she reached up and snatched them off his face.

"What the hell, Elena?" he asked, grimacing in the sudden light.

"Where were you?" she insisted, tossing the glasses on the dresser and crossing her arms. Unlike her, he looked perfect as always, even though she was willing to bet her inheritance that he'd been out drinking all night.

"I was out," he said after a long moment, his icy blue gaze cutting straight through her. Refusing to cower beneath the weight of his glare, Elena lifted her chin. Glancing briefly toward the ceiling, he mirrored her stance and leaned against the bathroom doorframe. "Where's Stefan?"

Elena started, frowning at the unexpected question. Shifting uncomfortably, she stammered. "H-he left. With Katherine."

"Exactly," he murmured, leaning so close to her, his nose almost brushed hers before he walked past her. Louder, he announced. "You're _boyfriend__'__s _gone, Elena. _I_ don't have to answer to you."

His harsh rebuke hit her like a slap to the face as a charged silence settled over the room. Tears flooded her eyes and she was grateful to have her back to him while she fought for composure. Her tired brain tried to rationalize his behavior, but nothing made sense.

From his seat on the bed, Tyler whistled. "Whoa, dude. That was…wow."

Elena turned around in time to see Damon tense and turn his glare on the werewolf. Swallowing, Caroline pushed him off the bed and toward the door. "Okay, Tyler, let's go see if Bonnie and Jeremy are up. We'll, um, just be next door if you two…need anything."

Elena said nothing as she watched her friends make a hasty exit. She had no idea if Caroline had told Tyler about what had happened between her and Damon, but she almost wished they would stay so she'd have a better chance of not crumbling into an exhausted, sobbing mess. Taking a deep breath, she shoved her emotion to the side and focused on her anger. "I called you - ."

"A million times, I know," he said, tossing his bag on one of the beds. "Do we really have to do this now?"

Hating him for making her feel like a whiny child, she snapped. "Yes. Where were you?"

"Why does it matter_?__"_ he demanded, abandoning the packing to glare at her again. His anger and frustration slammed into her as she felt the fight beginning to drain away, leaving her to flounder helplessly. "What part of "I was out" are you having a hard time with?"

"The part where you left me," she cried, fatigue breaking down the barriers of tact and common sense. Desperately, she appealed to his honor and the countless promises he'd made to keep her safe. "With _Stefan _and Katherine."

"You had a vampire, a werewolf, a hunter, a witch and two eternity rings to protect you," he reminded her, ticking off the list on his fingers as he slowly made his way back to her. "If five people can't keep you alive against Stefan and Katherine, we might as well hand ourselves over to Klaus right now."

Logically, she knew he was right. After learning what Stefan was capable of, they'd all been wary, trusting the two vampires only to an extent. She just couldn't get past the fact that she'd needed him and he'd bailed. Biting her lip, she mumbled petulantly. "You could have at least told me where you were going."

"I told Caroline," he said, offering a quick answer to every question. "Did she fail to tell you?"

Elena pressed her fingers to her forehead as the beginnings of a migraine added another level of hell to her day. Less than twenty-four hours ago, Damon had been caressing her cheek with the gentle touch of a lover. Even though he hadn't explicitly said it, she knew he'd attacked and nearly killed his brother because of her, because she'd taken that single step backwards when Stefan had walked into the room. Now, he was a different person and the change left her feeling adrift without an anchor. It was worse than before, when he'd been Polite Damon. At least then he'd still looked out for her, still acted like he cared instead of making her feel like a hindrance. In a small voice, she pleaded with him. "Why are you being like this?"

"I'm tired, Elena," he said, resuming his packing. "I've got a bitch of a hangover and I have to drive back to Mystic Falls today and play nice with a bunch of people I don't want to see."

A tear escaped her lashes and she hastily wiped it away before Damon noticed. She didn't want to know where she stood on that list of people. Drawing a strangled breath, she decided she had nothing to lose and brought up the elephant in the room. "Before we go back, we need to talk."

"Jesus, _why?__" _Damon demanded, letting some of his own stress bleed through as he scrubbed his hands over his face. _"_Why do we have to talk about _everything?_"

"Do you want to ignore what happened?" she asked, struggling to keep her voice from carrying through the paper thin walls into the room next door. "Pretend that everything's the same? That nothing's changed?"

"We had sex, Elena, that's all," he said gazing at her levelly. Although, his voice was gentler than before, it betrayed no emotion, no hint of how he felt. "Nothing's going to change. Everything _is _the same. You're still in love with Stefan, I'm still going to help you bring him home and put him through vampire rehab. Your normal, simple, _good _life isn't going to be ruined because we made a mistake."

Finally, at a loss for words, Elena watched silently as Damon finished packing. Slinging the bag over his shoulder, he returned to her side and picked his sunglasses up off the dresser. She could feel herself losing what was left of her control as he stood next to her. His presence wrapped around her, blocking out everything else, and it took every ounce of her strength and control to keep from bursting into tears.

"Pack your stuff," he said quietly. "We leave as soon as you're ready."

Unable to look at him, she nodded, holding her breath until he finally left the room and closed the door behind him. Waiting a moment to make sure he was really gone, Elena ran to the door, flipped the deadbolt and secured the chain. As metal grated against metal, the damn broke and a sob escaped her throat. Turning around, she leaned against the door and slid down to the floor, giving in to the tears.

* * *

><p>The early morning sun was burning the dew off the grass as Stefan and Katherine pulled into the driveway of the Salvatore house. Despite the brightness of the day, the building seemed removed, radiating an emptiness that did more to keep humans away than any security system.<p>

Approaching the house, Stefan realized he'd lost his keys at some point during his time with Klaus. For a second, he thought he might have to break in, but then he remembered the spare key Zach had always kept hidden above the door. Reaching up, he ran his fingers over the frame, discovering the flat metal object resting on the upper right edge.

Although she remained silent, he felt Katherine's presence behind him as he unlocked the door and pushed it open. Staring into the dark and silent foyer, he took a cautious step across the threshold. Technically, Elena's death rendered the house supernaturally abandoned, but he wouldn't have put it past Damon to devise some scheme to keep him out while he was drinking human blood. Nothing prevented his entrance, and as soon as he was inside, Katherine followed, shutting the door behind her.

Slipping the key into his pocket, Stefan made a beeline for the study and his brother's well stocked bar. Thanks to Katherine's lead foot, the drive from Savannah had been short, but also frustratingly tense. At first, he'd chalked up the bad vibes to her paranoia about being followed by Klaus. As the miles slipped away, however, it became rapidly clear that whatever was bothering Katherine had nothing to do with the Original.

Stefan was pleased to see the drapes were drawn in the study, blocking out the sun and rendering the room as dark as his mood. Splashing some of Damon's favorite bourbon into matching crystal tumblers, he left one for Katherine and took the other in hand, immediately drinking half the contents. The alcohol burned pleasantly down his throat, but did little to soothe the hunger for blood simmering just below the surface.

His bad mood worsened when he realized he'd be expected to subsist on the blood bags in the freezer downstairs.

Taking a seat on one of the antique sofas, he watched Katherine take in the study as if she'd never been in it before. With blatant male appreciation, he admired the tousled curls of her hair and the delicious pout of her full lips as she made her way to the bar and picked up the tumbler without so much as a glance in his direction. She was dressed in solid black, her clothes hugging every curve with an alluring combination of danger and sex.

Suddenly, he was hungry for something other than blood.

"So, how long are you going to give me the silent treatment?" he asked, settling back against the cushions and propping his feet on the low table between the sofas.

Leisurely turning to look at him, Katherine's face was a mask of indifference. "I'm sorry. Are you feeling ignored?"

"Ignored? No," Stefan shook his head, smirking. "You've spent a lot of time and effort pretending I don't exist. I'm just getting bored with it."

Katherine said nothing, staring at him over the rim of her glass as she took a sip of bourbon. Arching a brow, she shrugged. "I'm not you _girlfriend,_Stefan. It's not my job to entertain you."

Stefan's smirk became a grin as she turned back around and made a show of studying the paintings on the walls. Finishing his drink, he set the glass on the table and stood up. Crossing the room until he was standing directly behind her, he said. "It sucks, doesn't it?"

"What are you talking about?" she asked, stifling a yawn he knew was fake.

Placing his hands on her hips, he moved closer until they were almost touching and murmured. "Jealousy."

"Jealousy?" she repeated, brushing her hair over her shoulder and glancing at him. The disdain couldn't mask the pain in her eyes as she said. "I don't get jealous, Stefan. I make other people jealous."

"I know," he replied, slowly running his hands up and down her sides. "You used every trick on Damon and me. Playing us against each other, making us prove our love. It drove me crazy every time I saw you talking to him, smiling at him."

He'd let his hands drift closer to the center of her abdomen, closing the gap between them as her back hit his chest. Although she gave no indication of softening, he felt a tremor as it raced down her spine. "I overheard the two of you talking one day. You called him your lover, promised him forever, just like you did with me."

"Is that why you called Elena your girlfriend?" Katherine asked, her sharp peal of contemptuous laughter echoing through the quiet room. Stefan smiled at her condescending tone as he began undoing the buttons of her shirt. Her body betrayed her as he slipped his hand beneath the fabric to caress the smooth skin of her stomach. The muscles quivered at his touch and she leaned almost imperceptibly into him. "To get back at me for making you jealous one hundred and fifty years ago? Really, that's so childish. It's something Damon would do."

"I wasn't thinking of you at all," he replied casually, burying his face in her hair and breathing her in. "I said it to piss off my brother. I overheard their conversation, too. I know something happened between him and Elena."

"She had bite marks on her neck," Katherine said, setting her empty glass on the decorative table and pressing back against him more fully as she warmed to the seductive game. "She tried to hide it, but I saw them. Damon drank from her." She paused. "She _let _Damon drink from her."

"I noticed," he said simply, honestly.

"Doesn't it bother you, Stefan?" she asked, bracing her hands on the table as she arched into him. "Doesn't it make you crazy to know that Damon and Elena are probably waking up in bed together right now?"

"No."

"Liar," she taunted, gasping in surprise as he abandoned the buttons and ripped her shirt open the rest of the way. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he cupped her breast through the thin fabric of her bra and held her immobile against him.

"I'm not lying, Katherine," he said, savoring the way she trembled in his arms and her breath hitched as he teased her nipple with a flick of his thumb. Making her jealous had never been his intention, but he wouldn't deny his satisfaction in knowing he could. "You're the one that I want."

"I don't believe you," she replied, her voice breaking as he abandoned her breast and pulled her hair away from her neck. With fangs descended, he pressed a kiss to the smooth, creamy skin before opening his mouth and teasing her with a hint of pain.

Stefan didn't blame her for doubting him. He'd spent a lot of energy denying he'd ever loved her at all, let alone in the present moment. Before they'd arrived at the motel last night, he hadn't been certain himself where his heart truly belonged, however, seeing Elena and Katherine side by side on those stairs had told him all he needed to know.

It was Katherine. It had always been Katherine.

Even the pain in his chest from the stake Damon had been trying to drive through his heart hadn't been able to dull the power of the realization as it had slammed into him. Next to Katherine, Elena – and his feelings for her – paled in comparison. The human girl was a shadow of his real love, a consolation prize he'd convinced himself was what he really wanted, when in reality, with Katherine dead, he'd believed she was simply the best he could do.

The bloodlust had done more than eradicate his humanity, it had broken down barriers he'd erected against the pain of losing Katherine nearly one hundred and fifty years ago. While Damon had wallowed in the misery of missing her, he'd taken his grief even further and drowned it in denial. Unable to accept the loss, he'd pretended their love had never existed – that it had all been a lie.

He'd never questioned his need to know Elena, and he should have. Maybe then he would have seen the truth the instant he'd learned that Katherine's death had been a hoax.

No longer making an effort to hide her desire, Katherine reached an arm up, slipping a hand around the back of his neck. Turning slightly in his arms, she pulled him into a kiss as she moved her body against him, making him harder with every pass.

Sighing against her mouth, Stefan returned the kiss hungrily, reveling in the passion and desire building between them. Still, he wasn't fooled. After so many years it would take more than words to prove his love for her.

Without breaking the kiss, she turned fully, wrapping her arms around him as he found the button of her pants and deftly opened them. The grate of the zipper as he slowly pulled it down made her moan and bite his lip hard enough to draw blood. Letting her hands fall to the collar of his dark blue t-shirt, she ripped it cleanly down the middle.

"I thought you said you didn't believe me," he teased, abandoning his goal just long enough to let her push his shirt over his shoulders.

Looking up at him through thick lashes, she lifted the corner of her mouth. "Sex doesn't equal love, Stefan."

_Maybe __not, _he thought, sweeping the cluttered assortment of knickknacks and family heirlooms off the sideboard with a single stroke of his arm before lifting her onto it. Her hands were all over him, scorching every inch of his flesh with her touch, as he removed her knee-high stiletto boots and tossed them to the floor. Her pants quickly followed and he was touching her naked flesh, pulling her roughly against him so that nothing separated them but his jeans and the thin fabric of her lace and silk panties. Smiling inwardly, Stefan devoured her with his mouth. _Sex __may __be __just __sex, __but __it __was __certainly __a __start._

The sun had set and the day was descending into twilight as Damon turned into the driveway in front of his house. Lights blazed from within, announcing to the world that Katherine and Stefan had made it there alive. Grimacing, he turned the key in the ignition. _Fantastic_.

"No, man, wait until tomorrow," Alaric said from the passenger seat, speaking into his cell phone. Glancing at Damon, he added. "Stefan and Katherine are here and I think everybody needs a day to decompress before we dive into the Klaus problem."

Damon snorted, reaching for the trunk release before opening the door. They could all decompress until the cows came home, they'd never be ready to 'dive into the Klausproblem.' Climbing out of the car, he made his way to the back, lifting the lid to remove their luggage. As he unceremoniously tossed Alaric's bag to the asphalt, he froze, his gaze caught by Elena's leather jacket.

After he'd stormed out of the motel room that morning, he'd scoured the Camaro for Elena's belongings, transferring them to the SUV and then told Ric that he'd be taking her spot on the return trip. Nobody had argued with him, not even Elena when she'd finally come downstairs half an hour later and noticed Alaric packing his bags into the classic car's cavernous trunk.

Hiding behind his sunglasses, Damon had tried not to notice the red eyes or faint traces of tears that she'd obviously tried to wash away. He'd been harsh to her that morning – hell, he'd been a complete asshole - but he'd been pissed off and wickedly hungover. Treating her with Kidd gloves after he'd spent an entire night trying to forget the conversation he'd overheard between her and Caroline just hadn't been in the cards.

Still, he hadn't wanted to make her cry.

Holding the trunk up with one hand, Damon picked up her jacket, rubbing his fingers over the buttery smooth leather. There had been no way he could have spent the entire day in the car with her, taking in her scent with every breath, while sneaking glances at her when she wasn't looking. The very idea had been torture and playing musical passengers had been the only solution. Aside from a recap of Stefan and Katherine's information on Klaus, his friend had been mostly silent on the ride back.

Leaving Damon with plenty of time to obsess over Elena.

"Elena and Jeremy just dropped Bonnie off at her place, but they'll be here tomorrow night," Ric said, making his way to the back of the vehicle and scooping his belongings off the ground.

"Did you talk to her?" Damon asked, wanting to beg for details, to ask if it sounded like she was still upset.

"To Elena? No," he shook his head. "That was Jeremy."

"Oh," he replied, folding the jacket over in his hands and staring at its contours. It looked ridiculously small when she wasn't wearing it.

Ric sighed and Damon lifted his head in time to catch his pointed look. "Do you want me to bring that to her?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever," Damon said after a moment, shoving the jacket at his chest. Releasing it was a conscious effort as he let go of his last tangible connection to her. Slamming the trunk, he grabbed his bag and started for the front door.

"Hey, are you sure you can do this?" Ric called before he'd made it five steps.

Damon stopped, frowning as he whipped around. "Do what?"

"Stefan and Katherine are in there," Ric said, nodding toward the house. "I just, ah, want to make sure you're not going to go for round two and throw him through a window or something."

"We've got a contractor on retainer, so…," Damon said, smirking even though there really wasn't anything amusing about the fact that his bastard of a brother was back in town. They were just one good rehab session away from having him prey on the forest creatures again and trying to make things up to Elena. There was nothing amusing about _that_. Ric rolled his eyes and Damon shrugged. "It's good for the local economy."

"Seriously, man," his friend pressed.

"I'll be fine," Damon promised, knowing he could keep his word because Elena wouldn't be there to provoke his protective instincts.

Ric eyed him warily for a long moment before sighing. "See you tomorrow."

"Looking forward to it, Ric," he said, turning on his heel and heading toward the front door. Finding it unlocked, he opened it silently on well-oiled hinges. Low voices from the study carried down the hallway, forcing him to take a moment to find his equilibrium. No matter what happened, he could not attack his brother. With Katherine there and obviously on Stefan's side, they'd kill him if they had to. He could take Stefan. On a really good day and with some careful planning, he could fend off Katherine long enough to get the hell away, but he wasn't too proud to admit that together, they'd kick his ass and turn him into a coat rack with very little trouble.

Leaving his bag by the stairs, he headed for the study and walked in without hesitation. Katherine and Stefan were sitting on one of the couches, drinking his liquor and idly watching the flames jump and dance in the fireplace. Both looked up upon his entrance, watching him carefully as he studied the burning logs.

Raising a brow, he headed straight for the bar. "A fire, really? It's June, not January."

"Come on, Damon, don't you think it's romantic?" Katherine cooed, staring right at Stefan as she added. "I'll bet Elena would love it."

Refusing to react, he began fixing himself a drink. "You've had almost twenty-four hours and that's the best you can do? I'm disappointed, Katherine."

"I'm just getting warmed up."

Damon scoffed, pulling the stopper out of the crystal decanter filled with his favorite bourbon, and reached for a glass. He picked up the single tumbler and paused, staring at the empty tray. One of the glasses was missing. Suddenly, the feeling of being watched, of another older, more powerful presence in the room, hit him right between the shoulder blades.

With a sinking stomach, he finished preparing his drink, swallowing half of it before turning around and coming face to face with the Original whose betrayal was the only reason he'd survived that werewolf bite. _Fucking __hell,_he thought as he sighed and raised his glass in salute. "Elijah."

"Damon," the ancient vampire said, stepping out of the shadowy corner by the window and smoothing a hand down the lapel of his immaculate suit jacket. Glass in hand, he swirled the amber liquid around for a moment before toasting as well. "You have an excellent taste in liquor."


	20. The Hidden Memory

_AN: Wow. This chapter took forever...to write...to beta...to post... But on the plus side, it's really freaking long, so yaye? ;p The fact that I may have been distracted by the amazing Delena scenes in last week's ep might have had something to do with my delay in posting as well. The show has been so kickass in all respects I've had to be even more careful not to let it influence what I'm writing. I think I've succeeded. I'll shut up and let you be the judge. _

_Thank you so much for reading and replying. I can't wait to hear what you think of this chapter. Some epic reveals in this one._

Chapter Twenty – The Hidden Memory

Elena lay in bed as the late morning sun streamed through her windows, contemplating the events of the past few days with a clarity of hindsight that only twelve hours of solid sleep in her own bed could give her. Considering that nothing in her life ever worked out the way it was supposed to, she figured it made some kind of bizarre sense that in the course of getting Stefan back, things with Damon would become so complicated that she couldn't be sure where she stood with either brother.

Shaking her head, she sat up, swinging her legs to the floor. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess as she showered and dressed, and continued to tumble over each other as she dried her hair. No matter how hard she tried to focus on Stefan and the question of how they were going to help him, she kept returning to Damon. Frustrated with herself, she tossed her brush onto her vanity and gripped the edge of her chair, her eyes drawn to the photos littering her mirror.

Immediately, Elena was assaulted by smiling, happy snapshots of her and Stefan – most from that blissful Golden Era where Katherine had been a faceless memory. Looking at them now was like looking at someone else's life, the next doppelganger that could do a better job than she or Katherine and only love one Salvatore brother. Blinking, she turned away, her entire room was a monument to her past.

Grabbing her keys, she raced down the stairs and out the front door, bypassing the SUV in favor of walking. The day – her second day of being eighteen – was gorgeous and she took off with no particular destination in mind. Without the reminders of who she was _supposed _to be plastered all over her room, she was able to think in straight lines – lines that inevitably led to Damon.

"_We had sex, Elena. That's all. Nothing's going to change."_

Her cheek's flushed as she picked up the pace, hoping to somehow outrun her embarrassment. Generally, she didn't give much thought to the age difference between her and Damon – the _real _age difference - but as much as he looked and acted like a guy in his early twenties, their fight had highlighted just how far beyond the teenage angst he truly was.

Humiliation made Elena's stomach twist as she relived the way she'd practically stalked him during the night and jumped all over him the next morning like some sort of immature, jealous girlfriend. Her actions had been a bad high school cliché – boy and girl have sex and girl flips out because boy doesn't call her the next day.

The kicker had been that he'd been right.

_He _wasn'ther boyfriend. He didn't owe her anything.

Lost in her thoughts, Elena hadn't been paying attention to her surroundings and as her focus sharpened, she gasped in surprise. Her subconscious had led her straight to the source of her current mental torment and she hesitated at the foot of the driveway, trying to decide what to do. Pride demanded she turn around and go home, but the idea of walking all the way back just to return later in the evening seemed stupid. Her sanity dictated that she talk to Damon, to do or say whatever it took to get things back to normal between them.

Or as normal as it could be now that she'd realized she loved him, too.

Shoving her qualms aside, she walked purposefully up the driveway to the front door and knocked before she could second guess herself. A few agonizing moments later, during which it occurred to Elena that he might not even be home, the door opened, revealing a very guarded Damon Salvatore.

"Hi," she said, acutely aware of her racing heart. Being with him had become her normal and after twenty four hours apart, seeing him again made her feel safe and out of control in the best possible way. As she stared at him mutely, Damon looked over her shoulder toward the empty driveway, raising a brow in silent question. Finding her voice, she stammered. "Oh, it's…just me. Everybody else is coming later."

Narrowing his eyes, he asked. "Did you _walk _here?"

"Yeah, it was sort of an accident," she replied, coloring slightly at how unbelievable it sounded. "It's a nice day and um, well after getting a full night's sleep I decided I really needed to talk to you. Alone."

The way he lingered, staring at her with that unfathomable gaze, Elena wasn't sure he was going to let her in. After an incredibly lengthy pause, however, he pulled the door open wider and held out an arm. "Come on in."

Hesitantly, Elena stepped over the threshold and into the shadowy foyer as Damon closed the door. Suddenly her stomach twisted with nerves as she remembered that Stefan and Katherine were supposed to be there as well. With an attempt at subtlety, she peered through the open doorways and down the hall.

"Stefan's not here," Damon said, seemingly reading her mind in that annoying way he had as he walked past her without another word. Elena followed silently as they traversed the maze of hallways that led to the kitchen. "I'm making coffee. Do you want some?"

"Do you even need to ask?" she teased, forgetting Stefan and everything else at the promise of caffeine.

Damon smirked, holding the swinging door open for her. For as much time as he'd spent in the Gilbert kitchen, Elena had rarely been in the Salvatore's. She wandered around the room, idly running her fingers over the highly polished wood cabinets as Damon busied himself with coffee grounds and filters.

"So, what is it you wanted to talk about?" he asked with forced nonchalance, breaking the companionable silence.

Elena turned around, staring at the tense set of his shoulders. Hesitating for just a moment, she finally closed her eyes and said in a rush. "I wanted to apologize."

Damon froze before abandoning his task and turning to face her. Narrowing his eyes, he said. "_You_want to apologize? To me?"

"It's not that foreign of a concept," Elena protested.

Bemused, he leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms. "I can count the number of times you've apologized to me," he paused, and the corner of his mouth lifted slightly. "On one hand."

"Well, if you weren't such an ass all the time," she mocked, raising a brow. Keeping some space between them, she braced her elbows on the island in the middle of the room and bravely held his gaze. "I'm sorry for acting like a crazy person when you came back to the motel room yesterday morning. I was scared and stressed out and exhausted and as usual, I took it out on you. You didn't deserve that."

He considered that for a moment before mirroring her pose and leaning on the opposite side of the island. "I ignored you all night and was a complete dick when I came back. On purpose."

Tempted to ask why, Elena held his gaze, lifting her shoulder in a small shrug. "Okay. Maybe you deserved it a little. But I'm willing to call it even if you are."

"Does that mean I don't get my apology?"

"_Damon_," she said, fighting a grin because she could tell by the gleam in his eye that he'd forgiven her.

"Of course we're even," he assured her, pushing away from the island to open the cupboards for the mugs. Elena closed her eyes, expelling a huge sigh of relief as the last remnants of tension between them faded. There was more to be said, so much more, but for now – at least until she figured out what to do about Stefan – she just needed her relationship with Damon to be okay.

Elena made her way to his side as he prepared their coffee, briefly catching his eye and offering him her first genuine smile in days. Her gaze drifted to his mouth, remembering the way it felt against hers as heat unfurled low in her belly. Biting her lip, she quickly looked away. _Okay,__so __maybe __the __tension __isn__'__t __gone__…_

Picking up the white ceramic mug Damon put on the counter in front of her, Elena blew at the steam rising from within and murmured. "I forgot to remind you…"

Her train of thought screeched to a halt as she took a sip and realized her coffee was exactly how she liked it – cream, no sugar. Her heart skipped a beat, resuming sluggishly as she stole a glance at Damon and a self-erected wall within her began to crumble.

Stefan always put sugar in her coffee.

She'd lost track of the number of times she'd reminded him that she didn't take sugar, but he never remembered and made it exactly like his every time. It had become a joke that they'd laughed about and she'd quit saying anything in anticipation of the time that he would finally get it right.

Elena had told Damon _once_.

Noticing her sudden paralysis, Damon raised a brow. "Something wrong?"

"What?" she asked, knowing he'd caught her staring, but unable to look away.

"With the coffee?"

"What? No, it's perfect," she replied, taking another sip. Shrugging, he put away the coffee grounds and adjusted the setting on the machine before pouring his own cup – black, no frills. Elena knew this, just like she knew that he was kind of a neat freak about his house, his clothes, his car, even the way he fed. He liked nice things, he'd told her once, and he didn't need to wear his dinner.

Despite the wall that Elena had built to keep him at a distance, Damon had found a way through the cracks long ago. It was the little things that had done it – remembering the way she took her coffee only scratched the surface. He knew she liked red roses and her teddy bear and found her room, with its mix of childhood and sexy underwear, amusing as hell.

Bigger things had fought their way through as well. Damon told her the truth when everyone else thought lies would suffice, made her laugh in the face of certain death and convinced her that despite the odds, they'd always pull through. He understood her debilitating fear of compulsion, and it was a kick to the gut to realize that _he__'__d_been the one to return her vervain necklace every time it went missing. He'd noticed when a lamp had disappeared from her room after Stefan had destroyed it in a blood crazed rage. He could tell the difference between her and Katherine and _nobody _else could do that.

It made sense to love him for the large things, the big grand gestures like saving her life, but falling in love with him for all the small things had snuck up on her and caught her completely off guard.

She nearly dropped her mug as the words "falling in love with him" swirled around in her head and what was left of her denial crashed down around her.

_Oh god. _

_I'm in love with him. _

_Damon. _

_Not Stefan._

_Damon._

Suddenly acutely self-conscious, she took another drink, hiding behind her mug as she tried to figure out what to do next. The whole point of this trip was to apologize and get things with Damon back to normal. Discovering that she was in love with him did not equal normal, it equaled confusing…and awkward considering she was standing next to him, in his kitchen, alone…

"Good afternoon, Elena."

Almost choking on her coffee, she turned toward the door, staring in surprise at the new arrival. "Elijah?"

"Oh, yeah," Damon muttered as if he'd forgotten, glaring over his shoulder. "_He__'__s _here."

"Yes, I arrived last night," the Original replied, entering the kitchen and standing at a respectful distance away from her. "I smelled the coffee from upstairs and was hoping I could impose upon you for a cup."

"Help yourself," Damon shrugged, moving closer to Elena and sliding an arm behind her. "This isn't a Starbucks."

She couldn't help smiling at his irritation. "You make good coffee."

Leaning down, he murmured in her ear. "Whatever."

Elena shivered, aware of his presence with every nerve ending in her body as he lounged against the counter beside her. Hiding behind her mug again, her eyes wandered over the dark grey shirt stretched perfectly across his chest and landed on his hand, wrapped around the coffee mug. Vividly, she recalled the way those hands had felt against her naked flesh and instantly her cheeks burned.

"Thank you for helping us," Elena said, tearing her gaze away from Damon to focus on Elijah.

"He hasn't done anything yet," Damon grumbled.

"Damon," she chided, amazed at her ability to form coherent sentences when all she could think about was how much more complicated her life had just become.

"He's right. I'm afraid you all have just cause to doubt my ability to keep my word," Elijah replied, pouring coffee into a mug and immediately sipping it. He took it black. Just like Damon. _Shit, __focus, __Elena._"You, especially, have my condolences, Elena."

"Me?" she repeated, staring at him in confusion.

"You kept your word and yet lost your aunt and your father because of Klaus," he explained gently. Damon shifted slightly, moving closer to her as she bit her lip and fought back the tears in her eyes that immediately blurred her vision. "Now, my brother has dragged Stefan into his madness and once again you and those you love are at risk. If I had killed Klaus when I was supposed to, none of this would be happening."

"Yeah, but Damon would be dead," Elena replied without hesitation, meeting Damon's quizzical gaze as a wave of guilt swept through her. Losing Jenna had broken her heart, but losing Damon would have broken _her_ completely.

Elena was unaware of how long the silence between them had grown until Elijah cleared his throat, shattering it. Knowing she'd been caught staring, she returned her attention to her coffee. Over the rim of the mug, she noticed the Original studying both of them before stating carefully. "Yes, there is that."

* * *

><p>Later that afternoon, Stefan hovered in the shadows near the stairs, waiting for Elena to leave the living room and Damon's watchful eye. That morning, he and Katherine had left early, traveling to a nearby town where they could find live prey without having to deal with being harassed over it. It had been a repeat of the day before, an orgy of blood and sex, but she'd been careful to let him know that <em>sex <em>was all it was. Considering he was still technically with Elena and the fact that he'd been carrying around the necklace he'd given her for the past two months, he hadn't been able to argue.

Resolved to officially end things between them, Stefan had arrived back at the house and found his brother and his girlfriend in the study, sitting side by side on the couch as they talked to Elijah. Aware of Katherine's scrutinizing gaze, he'd schooled his features against any kind of reaction, but there hadn't been a need. There had been no jealousy – not even when Damon had draped his arm over the back of the couch behind Elena and she'd leaned back against it like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Finally, he heard the familiar footsteps he'd been waiting for and a moment later, Elena exited the living room. As she slipped outside, Stefan waited, expecting Damon to follow her, but when it became clear that nobody was chasing after her, he made his way to the front door.

_Time to take care of unfinished business._

Standing on the front steps, Elena automatically turned as the door opened. A look of fear passed over her features upon seeing Stefan, but she quickly hid it behind a mask of indifference. He'd expected more of a reaction, but he stopped just across the threshold and held up his hands. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Crossing her arms, she backed down the steps. "Did you follow me out here?"

"Sort of," he admitted, advancing carefully in her direction. "I've been waiting to catch you alone without your bodyguard…so we could talk."

Elena's gaze darted between him and the windows lining the front of the house before she nodded and turned toward the yard. "Fine. But Damon's inside and he's-."

"Watching and waiting for an excuse to kill me," Stefan said, nodding as he followed her. Keeping a respectful distance, he slipped his hand in his pocket, closing it around the pendant. "I got it."

Elena led him to the center of the yard, beneath the shade of an ancient oak tree that he actually remembered as a sapling. Bracing her hands on her hips, she turned and met his gaze with a familiar defiance. "Okay, what do you want to talk about?"

Carefully, so as not to scare her and have Damon shoving a stake in his back, Stefan closed the space between them and took her hand, pulling the necklace out of his pocket and placing it in her open palm. "You need to know I…regret what happened. My intention wasn't to hurt you. I just…wanted you and Damon to leave me alone."

For a long moment, Elena stared silently down at the necklace as it winked in the sunlight. If his humanity hadn't been so deeply buried, he might have felt chagrined when she finally lifted her head and fixed him with a piercing gaze. "That's it? You tortured me and threw me into a wall and you think slapping this necklace in my hand and saying you didn't _intend_ to hurt me is going to make everything better?"

"Elena-."

"No, Stefan, stop…" she ordered, pulling her hand away and backing up. "Why are you telling me this? I mean, do you…do you really feel bad about it or are you just worried Damon's going to try and kill you again?"

Stefan smiled faintly. "I think you overestimate him."

Closing her fingers over the necklace, Elena crossed her arms and lifted a brow.

"Okay, fine," Stefan replied, shoving his hands back in his pockets. "No, Elena. I'm not… sorry. I was…out of control that night and hurting you wasn't what I wanted, but…sorry? No."

Elena stared at him for a long moment, considering that revelation. Swallowing, she dropped her gaze to the ground. "Did you ever love me, Stefan?"

Stefan blew out a breath, unearthing the remnants of his feelings for Elena. Bridging his detachment was difficult, but he hadn't forgotten what they'd shared and what this human girl had been willing to risk for a monster that preyed on her kind without qualm. "When I told you I loved you, I meant it. It wasn't a lie, Elena."

Lifting her head, she met his gaze with eyes that sparkled with unshed tears. "I had no idea human blood could be so enlightening. Maybe Damon and I should have left you alone the first time and saved everybody the trouble."

Clutching the necklace tightly in her fist, Elena stalked past him to the house. Stefan bowed his head, staring at the ground before turning and following her with his gaze. There was something…unsatisfying about their ending – and it _was _an ending – but there was nothing else he could give her that wasn't a lie.

But what, exactly, was the truth?

He loved Katherine. He felt it with everything he had, but he knew he would have said the same about Elena only a few short months ago. Katherine had made no secret of the fact that she believed he wanted her only because he was drinking human blood and now Elena had indicated the same.

What if they were right?

* * *

><p>Standing in front of the big windows overlooking the front yard, Damon clenched his jaw tight enough to grind his teeth to dust. Employing more self-control than he thought possible, he denied his instincts, choosing to watch Stefan and Elena talk from a distance, rather than bursting through the window and ripping his brother to shreds. The return to Mystic Falls and some semblance of normalcy hadn't changed his decision to leave town – assuming he lived through whatever they had to do to bring an end to Klaus – and normal for him involved an obsessive awareness of Elena's wellbeing.<p>

Hell, who was he kidding? Normal equaled an obsessive awareness of Elena. Period.

Ignoring Stefan, Damon studied Elena's face for some clue as to the nature of their conversation. Standing with her arms crossed and her face a wary mask, all he could tell was that she was uncomfortable, but unafraid – which sucked because he would have loved the excuse to go for round two with his brother.

Her early arrival that afternoon had been both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, they'd fixed things to the point where they could function as a team again. On the other, they still hadn't _talked _about what had happened between them. The attraction that had been the elephant in the room for so long had now become the sex he couldn't get out of his head. He knew she was feeling it too. There was an awkwardness to their relationship now, forgotten, until they stood too close or looked at each other a little too long.

"Don't you wish we could hear through walls?"

Damon glanced to his right, grimacing at the split-second attraction he felt before recognition kicked in and he knew it was Katherine. She joined him by the window, silently watching the show outside before studying his profile. "Shouldn't you be out there rescuing the damsel in distress?"

"Shouldn't you be lurking under a rock somewhere?" he countered. Katherine's tone was the same as always – taunting and pointed, meant to hurt – but the stress in her eyes revealed her inner turmoil. Seeing Stefan with Elena pained her, too, and _that_made his day. "Sucks to have the shoe on the other foot, doesn't it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Please," he rolled his eyes, turning slightly away from the window. "You deal with rejection worse than I do. Of course, I've had one hundred and fifty years to get used to it."

"You always were slow on the uptake, Damon," she replied, placing a hand on her hip as she sent him a scathing look.

"Oh, so you're trying to tell me it doesn't _kill _you to see Stefan talking to Elena?" he sneered, lobbing words at her that would have cut him to say aloud if it weren't for the promise of the pain it would cause her. "She forgives him for everything, you know. She'll forgive him for this and then she'll hold his hand while he detoxes. It won't take long and he'll be back to the old Stefan – the one who hasn't been blinded by human blood. The one who hates you almost as much as I do."

Damon thought he caught the glimmer of tears in her eyes, but he was distracted by movement outside. Smirking in triumph, he watched Elena walk away from Stefan, leaving him to stare at the ground as she made her way back to the house. Moments later, Caroline and Tyler arrived.

The party could finally begin.

* * *

><p>Alaric watched as Caroline, Tyler and Stefan joined the rest of the group in the living room, causing the rag tag group to resemble a bizarre junior high dance. Elijah was standing near the fire place, seemingly oblivious as he stared into the empty grate, while Katherine perched on the arm of the sofa nearest him. Without hesitation, Stefan claimed the seat next to her, propping his elbows on his knees and studying the carpet, his features an inscrutable mask.<p>

Almost defiantly, Bonnie claimed a seat on the opposite couch, glaring at Elijah's back suspiciously. Jeremy sat beside her, a protective arm slung over the back of the seat, greeting Tyler as he sank to the cushions beside him. Caroline hovered in the space between the two pieces of furniture, eyeing Stefan with open curiosity and bewilderment.

To the surprise of no one, Damon had already begun mixing a drink at the bar behind Tyler, Bonnie and Jeremy. He seemed consumed by his task, but his watchful gaze never strayed far from the Original and the two vampires who seemed to have taken up his cause. Elena stood alone, near the windows, but each time she shifted her weight, she gravitated closer to Damon. Or maybe she just wanted a drink as badly as Alaric did.

Leaning against the wall at the top of the two stairs leading into the sunken room, the high school teacher and sometimes vampire hunter surveyed the odd collection of supernatural beings and humans. The battle lines were clearly drawn between Team Original and Team…Alaric smirked and shook his head at the floor. Damon would be livid at the idea, but the vampire _was_ the de facto leader of their assembled crew. They all turned to him for…not guidance exactly, but as the barometer of their potential success. They'd carry on without him because they had little choice, but if Damon didn't back a plan, their level of confidence in it was nearly nonexistent.

Someday, if they all lived through this latest battle, Alaric decided he was going to sit Damon down and explain that fact. If nothing else, the vampire's appalled reaction would be good for a laugh.

The silence and tension was mounting in the room, but nobody was making a move to get the ball rolling. Sighing, Alaric rolled his eyes. _Always__the__teacher_. "I think we're all here."

Elijah turned around, a flicker of surprise passing fleetingly across his eyes as he took in the assembly. Clasping his hands genteelly behind his back, he spoke quietly. "I'm not going to waste your time asking you for forgiveness for my past betrayal. I'm simply going to tell you what must be done and what I'm prepared to do."

Alaric glanced at Damon, expecting some quick retort, but his attention was focused on his drink...and Elena as she crept ever closer to his side.

"But first," Elijah said, glancing at Katherine and Stefan. "I need to tell you about…my sister. Liliana."

* * *

><p>Klaus opened the door to his private rooms with unchecked force, letting it slam into the wall. The knob punched a hole in the plaster as particles of dust rained down onto the plush carpet. Kicking the door shut, he stalked into the room and flung his jacket into the corner by the bed. Mia, his witch, was chained to a chair in the corner – conscious and aware of everything happening around her. A naked blond stretched like a cat on the bed at his arrival, compelled to the point of oblivion. Ignoring the hovering specter of his sister, he headed directly for the bed.<p>

"What's wrong, baby?" the blond asked, preening on her hands and knees as she offered herself to him. Taking her face in his hands, Klaus cocked his head. Twisting sharply, he snapped her neck and she collapsed in a heap on the bed. "My comrade is gone."

"Stefan Salvatore?" Mia guessed, raising a disdainful brow at the Original. Her face was streaked with dried tears, rendering the haughty gesture completely ineffectual. "Did you chase him away with all of your depraved games?"

"Oh, Stefan has a boundless appetite for depravity," the vampire grinned, showing his double hybrid fangs. "At least, that is what I had heard, but I'm beginning to doubt his taste for it anymore. Did you know, it was dumb luck that Damon Salvatore was bitten by a werewolf? I had planned on leaving Mystic Falls with Stefan by my side, but I could not have arranged a better trade. Stefan is the type, you know, who would give up anything for family."

"What do you know about family?" Mia sneered, her eyes once again filling with tears. Klaus sighed at the tiresome sight.

"Plenty," he replied, his gaze drifting to the small entryway where Liliana gazed at him mournfully. "After all, I killed most of mine."

* * *

><p>"So, Liliana was the original Petrova," Bonnie said, leaning forward in her seat and gripping the arm of the couch. Her distrust of Elijah had waned already and all he'd done was wax poetic for a few minutes about his little sister who was apparently the spitting image of Katherine and Elena. Damon rolled his eyes as he sipped his bourbon. <em>Typical.<em>

"No," Elijah said, unsuccessfully masking a sigh of irritation. "Liliana is not a Petrova. In our time Petrova was an area of the country in which we lived and it was in that same area where the first doppelganger appeared, but I, _we_, are in no way related to Katherine or Elena."

From her place on the couch, the vampire smiled smugly. "So, I'm the _original._"

Having finally made her way to his side, Elena gripped the edge of the bar and muttered under her breath. "The original _copy.__" _

Damon smirked, reaching for a crystal tumbler and pouring Elena a drink of her own without a second thought. She looked at him in surprise when he held it out to her, taking it without breaking their gaze. For a few seconds, he forgot Elijah's boring history lesson as he tried to decipher every wordless emotion trapped in her brown eyes.

Then the Original said something that caught both of their attention.

"Liliana is the reason Klaus was cursed," Elijah said, his gaze settling on Katherine first before traveling toward Elena. "There was a time when he could tap into both his vampiric and werewolf sides, but Liliana's death changed all that."

"How?" Bonnie asked, but from the way the Original was staring at him, Damon figured he already knew.

"Klaus bit her, by accident," Elijah said, one thousand years of pain evident in his voice. "And not even an Original can survive that."

* * *

><p>"You're disgusting," Mia spat, buoyed by either bravery or stupidity. "No wonder you were cursed."<p>

"Oh, what would you know about it?" Klaus demanded, tearing his gaze away from the entryway and stalking across the carpet to stand before his reluctant witch.

"I know enough," she declared. "I know that you lost control and bit your sister and she died and _that__'__s_ why the witches cursed you."

"Wrong," Klaus declared, savoring the look of shock that crossed Mia's features. "It is true, I did kill Liliana, but that is not why I was cursed."

"But…the legend. The books."

"Really, now, Mia, you cannot believe everything you read," he tsked, turning his back on her and making his way across the lushly furnished apartment to the bar near the bed where his dead toy lay. "I have made up my fair share of myths and legends."

"Then what really happened, Klaus?" the witch asked, appealing to him from across the room. Despite the certainty that she wouldn't survive whatever he had in store for her, her curiosity was piqued.

"Liliana's death was an accident," he said, shooting a glare in her direction. "But what happened next was purposeful. The witches did not seek me out to punish me. _I_ sought them out for mercy. But your kind was not feeling merciful."

* * *

><p>Elena tried to ignore her sudden nausea as she stared at Elijah. "A werewolf bite?"<p>

"We...had no idea that the bite of a werewolf was hazardous to our kind," he explained. "Liliana wanted to see her brother change. And I must admit I was curious."

The room was hushed as Elijah told the story of that night, over a thousand years ago, in the most basic, simplistic terms. Liliana's descent into delusion and suffering and Elijah's obvious pain at the memory clearly illustrated the fact that Damon's survival had been a miraculous anomaly.

Taking a large drink of her bourbon, she stepped closer to him and her hip brushed against his. Glancing at her, he frowned in question. Elena looked back, silently holding his gaze for the second time during Elijah's story and wishing she could see inside his head. She knew he recalled the kiss, but she'd never asked him what else he remembered. _What __was __it __like, _she wondered, _to __face __death __after __the __promise __of __immortality?_

Having passed the most painful part of the story, Elijah's voice gained strength and reluctantly, Elena gave the Original her full attention. "After she was gone, my family was distraught, Klaus most of all. He exiled himself, before they could shun him. Two days after Liliana's death, the witches came for him. Their punishment was swift and ruthless."

"Wait, they cursed him over an accident?" Alaric asked. "That seems kind of…extreme."

"They claimed his existence as a hybrid upset the balance of Nature," Elijah explained, casting a pointed look at Bonnie. "Rendering his werewolf side dormant corrected an oversight that never should have existed. They said it was…for the good of humanity."

* * *

><p>Klaus stalked across the room, bracing his hands on the armrests to which Mia was chained. She shrank back into the chair in a futile effort to get away. "I went to them to beg for Liliana's life. She was beautiful. Perfect and good, the best of my wretched family. She did not deserve to die such a horrible death. I thought they would understand. I thought they would see, but they thought I was an abomination in the face of Nature. They refused to help."<p>

"So, they cursed you?"

"No, they taunted me," Klaus explained, standing up and staring toward the doorway. "They told me I'd had the cure all along. That my sister's life could have easily been saved by simply…drinking my blood. They _knew_what my bite could do to vampires and that I could just as easily fix it and they didn't tell me. Not until it was too late."

Blinking in confusion, Mia searched for words. "Then…why-?"

"Why the curse?" Klaus asked, snapping his head back to look at her with sadistic amusement gleaming in his eyes. "Because after they'd had their fun, after they'd taunted me with everything I needed to know about my hybrid nature and what I could do with it…I killed them. I killed them all."


	21. Meltdown

_AN: Very special thanks to my beta for sitting on the phone with me forever while I struggled to write two measily sentences. She's a rockstar. _

_Thanks so much for the amazing response to the last chapter. I hope you enjoy this one just as much. _

Chapter Twenty-One - Meltdown

Fed up with story time, Damon downed the rest of his bourbon before setting the glass back on the tray with a loud thunk. Elijah's lengthy monologue had done nothing but give him time to dwell on his own near demise. There had been no insight into Klaus aside from the fact that once upon a very long time ago, he'd been on the receiving end of a bunch of vindictive witches and if that was supposed to make him feel sorry for the bastard, it didn't. Hell, he'd been royally screwed over by Emily Bennett and _he_ hadn't turned into a psychopathic freak of nature bent on destroying everything in his path.

Well, okay, maybe he _had_, but he'd gotten over it before he'd done any damage that couldn't be fixed by an eternity ring.

There was also the not so small problem of Elena. She'd gravitated to his side during the course of the history lesson and now she was standing so close that he couldn't breathe without inhaling her scent. Every nerve in his body was acutely attuned to the places where she brushed against him and it was driving him crazy. He was relieved they'd figured things out and were no longer fighting, but if he didn't get a distraction soon he was going to throw her over his shoulder, take her up to his bedroom, and bury himself inside of her until they both forgot that Klaus, Stefan or anybody else in the world even existed.

And while that was highly tempting, it didn't exactly solve any of their problems.

"This is all fascinating," Damon interrupted, leaning against the bar. "But what the hell does it have to do with anything?"

"Damon," Bonnie hissed, glaring at him over her shoulder.

"What?" he replied, unperturbed as he brushed passed Elena on his way to face Elijah on the opposite end of the room. Keeping the long wooden coffee table between them, he continued. "What's the point of this trip down memory lane? Werewolf bites suck? I agree, but what does it have to do with killing Klaus?"

"Klaus didn't offer me the trade because he gave a damn about you, Damon," Stefan said, lifting his gaze from studying the pattern of the antique Persian rug on the floor. "He needed me for bait to lure Katherine out."

"Okay. _Why_?"

"I think he believes he's being haunted by Liliana and needs Katherine for a some kind of ritual to get rid of her," Stefan explained, leaning back against the cushions and draping an arm over the couch, loosely encircling the woman at his side. "He wants Katherine dead."

"Don't we all," Damon muttered, earning him a snicker from Elena.

"_Think s_he's being haunted?" Jeremy asked, looking at Stefan. "What, you don't believe in ghosts?"

"_I_ do," Elijah assured him. "It's just…in the thousand years since Liliana's death I've never once heard him speak to her as Stefan has. He's never even mentioned her. At the moment, however, what matters more is that we have something Klaus wants and can use it to draw him out."

"And once we've…drawn him out," Alaric said, speaking from the doorway just behind Damon. "What then?"

With that, all eyes fell to Bonnie. Damon waited, wondering if the witch had come up with an actual plan since the last time they'd spoken. Straightening in her seat, Bonnie lifted her chin.

"I can't re-curse Klaus," she admitted as Damon scoffed and rolled his eyes. Quickly, she added. "But I can make him vulnerable long enough for Elijah to kill him."

"Elijah? Really?" Damon raised a brow, casting a withering look at the Original. "Your big plan rests on Elijah's ability to get it done? Again?"

The Original cleared his throat. "I understand your skepticism, but-."

"But what?" Damon asked, glaring at him from across the room. "But you really mean it this time? Not good enough."

Alaric cleared his throat before the tension between Damon and Elijah snapped and one of them used the coffee table as a weapon. "I have a problem inviting Klaus back to Mystic Falls without some method to contain him. He's too powerful."

"We can use the tomb," Bonnie said immediately as if she'd been waiting for the excuse. "Trap him in there like Katherine."

"It's not spelled anymore," Damon said, earning him another seething look from the witch.

"I can _re-_spell it."

"How convenient."

"It took two witches to bring it down and get me out," Stefan reminded her, though not unkindly. Damon glared at his brother – even hopped up on human blood he was still the calm one.

"I can use the same spell from the Masquerade, when we set the trap for Katherine," Bonnie said. "It'll be temporary, but that's okay, right? I mean, we're not looking to hold Klaus forever."

"Well, that's handy," Damon snorted in derision. "How would we get him in there? It's not exactly a tourist attraction."

"Isn't it kind of obvious?" Caroline piped up for the first time.

"What's obvious?" Damon asked.

"Weren't you listening to the story?"

"No," he said, glancing at Elena where she still lingered near the bar. He'd been much more focused on _other _things.

Caroline made a face at him and focused on Katherine. "We have something he wants. So, Katherine goes into the tomb and we use her as bait."

"Katherine will _not _go into the tomb and be used as bait," the vampire in question replied, rising from the arm of the couch where she'd been silent since they'd all gathered. Backing away from the group as a whole, she crossed her arms and for the first time in his life, Damon saw actual fear in her eyes. "I'm not going back into that tomb."

"Why not?" Damon smirked. "This is the first part about this stupid plan that I actually like."

Crossing the room in a blur, Katherine stopped in front of Damon, so close she was practically standing on his toes, but he didn't give her an inch. Nose to nose, she glared at him, declaring vehemently. "I am _not _going back into the tomb."

"If you want to save Stefan, you will," he replied, meeting her unblinking gaze. The room was silent as a battle waged behind the cold, dark eyes that he'd once been willing to die for. The soft clink of glass against glass broke the silence as Elena spoke.

"I'll do it."

"Once Katherine is in the tomb, won't Klaus know that it's spelled?" Damon asked quickly, hoping the rest of the group either hadn't heard Elena speak or would dismiss her insane suggestion without a second thought.

"I could wait," Bonnie said, thinking over the spell. "Until Klaus is beyond the door. It's not the easiest option but I can make it happen."

"I'm sorry," Katherine replied, placing a hand on Damon's chest and curling her fingers so her nails dug painfully into his chest through his t-shirt. "What part of 'I'm not going back in there' did you think I didn't mean?"

"Suck it up, Katherine," Damon taunted, wrapping his fingers around her wrist, and jerking her hand away. "Take one for the team for once instead of making all of our lives miserable."

"This is not my _team,_" she answered heatedly, anger flashing in her eyes. Damon knew he was about two minutes away from being thrown through the open doorway behind him, but he didn't care. "And I'd love to know how you expect to get me in there, Damon."

He tipped his head toward the vampire hunter by the door. "Vervain darts work like a charm, don't they Ric."

"Katherine," Stefan said, rising to his feet. "This isn't like last time. You're not…the one we're trying to trap."

Katherine whirled around and Damon could have sworn he caught the hint of a tremor in her voice. "Don't you dare side with _him_."

"Guys, I said I'd do it," Elena interrupted, louder this time as she made her way to Damon's side.

"Do _what_?" Katherine sneered, glancing over her shoulder in utter dismissal.

"I'll be the bait," she insisted as Damon's dead heart dropped like a stone. "Klaus doesn't know I'm alive, right? He won't be expecting it. So, I'll pretend to be Katherine and lure him into the tomb."

"You'll pretend to be me?" the original doppelganger repeated, amused and intrigued.

"No, she won't," Damon said, grabbing Elena roughly by the arm in an attempt to usher her back to the quiet corner where she couldn't get herself into trouble. "No fucking way."

"Damon, stop it," she said, jerking her arm away and glaring at him. "Come on, you know I can do this. And it makes more sense because I can get back out of the tomb without Bonnie having to lift the spell."

"She's got a point," Ric said, earning him a withering look from Damon. The teacher shrugged. "I didn't say it was a good one."

"What is it with you and suicide?" Damon hissed, invading her space in an attempt at intimidation. "Why would you do this for Katherine?"

"I'm not doing it for her," Elena replied, crossing her arms and avoiding his gaze as she looked toward his brother. Damon closed his eyes as realization swept over him. _Of__course,_he thought. _This __was __for __Stefan. __Goddammit._

"You're not doing it for anybody."

"Can she do it?" Stefan asked before shifting his gaze to Elena. "Can you really convince Klaus you're Katherine?"

She gazed coolly at Stefan as she tipped her head toward Damon. "Ask him."

"Damon?"

Betrayal coursed through him as he stared at his brother. "Are you so far gone that you're willing to hand _Elena _over to Klaus on a silver platter?"

Stefan held his gaze. "Can she do it?"

Narrowing his eyes, Damon studied Stefan and Katherine as realization made his stomach drop to his feet. He'd managed to ignore the closeness between them, but now as they stood united in the middle of his goddamn living room, it hit him with a startling clarity. Whether she knew it or not, Katherine's love for his younger brother was no longer one-sided.

And that bastard was willing to sacrifice Elena to keep Katherine out of harm's way.

A sense of injustice swept over Damon, eroding the peace he'd found that afternoon in the kitchen. Human blood or not, Stefan knew, he _knew, _how Damon felt about Elena and he was still willing to sell her out. Floundering, he looked to her, his eyes drawn to a glint of silver around her neck that he hadn't noticed before. The small, circular lump beneath her shirt, just over her heart told him all he needed to know.

She was wearing that goddamn necklace again.

"Yeah, she can do it," he said dully, backing away from them. Elena watched, the triumph and gratitude on her face quickly being replaced by confusion as he made his way to the door.

"Damon, what…where are you going?"

"I'm not watching you die again," he said, slipping behind a mask of cool indifference even though everything in him was raging at the unfairness of and futility of his entire fucking existence. Addressing the whole group, he said what they all had to be thinking, even if they wouldn't admit it. "This is not a plan. This is suicide and I'm done with it."

Turning around, he left the room before the look of confusion in Elena's eyes turned to hurt and she suckered him back in.

* * *

><p>On the surface, Damon's exit had changed nothing, but Jeremy felt the undercurrents of unease rippling through the room, growing in strength with each minute he was gone. Keeping one eye on Elena as she circled closer and closer to the exit, he tried to pay attention to Bonnie and Elijah's semi-private conversation.<p>

"What I don't understand is why Klaus needs Katherine," Bonnie said, furrowing her brow in confusion. "I mean, it's not that hard to stop a haunting."

"I'm afraid I don't know," Elijah admitted, shrugging his shoulders in a way Jeremy found disconcerting considering his old fashioned manners and formal suit. "I tried to contact Liliana, but I was unsuccessful."

"Wait, what?" Bonnie demanded, staring at him in shock. "You couldn't contact her?"

Elijah shook his head as Jeremy looked between his girlfriend and the thousand-year-old Original. "Is that weird?"

"Yeah, it's weird," she nodded, briefly turning her wide eyes on him. Addressing Elijah again, she asked. "Did you have something that belonged to her?"

"Yes," the Original said, smiling indulgently. "I've summoned a ghost or two in my time, Bonnie."

"Of course you have," she murmured, looking down at her hands. Rolling his eyes, Jeremy checked on Elena again. She was leaning against the doorframe, playing with the pendant of the vervain necklace Stefan had given her. _When __did __she __get __that __back? _Seeing her wear it again surprised Jeremy. He was all for their unwritten "survive and forget" rule when it came to inflicting harm on one another, but the fact that _Stefan_had attacked _Elena_was so bizarre, he couldn't think of it in the same way.

Letting Bonnie and Elijah talk magic for a moment, Jeremy shifted his gaze to Stefan. The vampire was as oblivious to his sister as she was to him, talking quietly with Katherine on the opposite couch. Jeremy couldn't tell if the older vampire had calmed down since it had been established that Elena would be the one playing Klaus-bait, but her face wasn't all veiny and vamped out, so he considered that a plus.

Jeremy wasn't happy about Elena offering herself up as the sacrificial lamb, but having known her for almost seventeen years, he knew there was no point in arguing with her once she set her mind to something. He would have thought that with all of the time Damon had spent with her these past few weeks – hell the past year, really – he'd have picked up on that fact. Then again, maybe he had and he just didn't care. Smirking, he decided that _that _sounded much more like the one hundred and fifty-year-old vampire he knew.

"Maybe if you tried again," Bonnie said, pulling him back into the conversation with talk of casting spells and summoning ghosts. "If I was there I could channel the Power, make the summoning stronger and more specific."

As usual, Jeremy's protective instincts spiked at the idea of Bonnie doing anything even remotely in the neighborhood of dangerous. "Are you sure that's a good idea? I mean, you're taking on a lot already, you don't want to burn yourself out before we even get Klaus into town."

"Jeremy, maybe if we can talk to Liliana, we can get a better idea of what Klaus wants," she explained, her voice just the slightest bit annoyed. Turning to Elijah, she angled for support. "Knowledge is power, right?"

"Yes," the Original replied carefully. "But I have to agree with Jeremy. Liliana…as much as I'd like to see her, is irrelevant to our purpose. Whatever business has prompted her to reach out from the other side can remain a mystery."

_The __other __side__…_ Jeremy shifted uncomfortably as Elijah's innocent choice of words reminded him of Vicki and Anna. He hadn't talked to them much lately, but he'd seen them. Every once in awhile, one or both of them would flash across his vision, scaring the crap out of him until he remembered this – seeing ghosts – was his new normal.

"I don't need babysitters," Bonnie insisted, clenching her hands into fists against her thighs. "I can do this. It's a simple spell."

"Wait," Jeremy said suddenly as an idea came to mind. "Maybe, you don't need to do a spell."

"Jeremy," she said, the warning tone in her voice making it very clear that he was crossing the line from over-protective and sweet into annoying.

"No, you don't understand," he insisted. "I mean you don't _have _to. I know somebody, well, two somebodies, who can find her for us."

"What are you talking about?"

This was definitely not how he'd pictured telling his current girlfriend that he was being haunted by his exes. Taking a deep breath, he decided to follow Damon's advice and take one for the team. "Well…ever since you brought me back…I've been seeing ghosts."

* * *

><p>Elena waited until Alaric had left his sentry position at the doorway and Jeremy had quit watching her like a hawk before slipping out of the living room. Searching for Damon, she checked the library across the hall before methodically working her way, in a clockwise pattern, through the rooms on the first floor. Logically, she knew it made very little sense to check the formal dining room and the kitchen, but the plan gave her time to figure out what she wanted to say – or more appropriately, what she wanted to say <em>first.<em>

Loving someone and wanting to punch them in the face at the same time was an intense cocktail of emotions that Elena was experiencing for the first time. Given the way Damon had fought Bonnie's plan every step of the way, she hadn't been surprised that he'd been opposed to her offer to act as bait, but the way he'd shut down and walked out had been more extreme than she'd expected. She couldn't wrap her brain around the notion that he'd bail – not really – but the very idea that he might _not_be there was enough to turn her mild anxiety over the plan into full-blown panic.

Absently, she wrapped her fingers around the heavy pendant that felt at once familiar and foreign, where it rested against her chest. She'd put it back on out of habit and self-preservation. The conversation between her and Stefan had been necessary, but painful, and even though neither one of them had uttered the actual words 'it's over', Elena knew a break up when she felt it. Part of her wished she would have come clean to Stefan about what had happened between her and Damon, but even though he'd given her the lamest apology in the history of relationships for what he'd done to her, she still couldn't throw his brother in his face.

_Not __that __I __haven__'__t __done __worse __to __Damon, _she thought, cringing as she finally came upon the study. Pushing the door open, she peered into the darkness. Moonlight barely penetrated the tall windows, leaving the room cloaked in thick shadows.

"Damon?" she asked, speaking for the first time because, despite the absolute silence of the dark room, she was certain he was there. Stepping through the door, she groped for a light switch before remembering that, like most of the rooms in the old house, there was no overhead lighting. Her temper spiked at the inconvenience and that urge to punch him returned full force. "Stop hiding, I know you're in here."

A low chuckle sounded to her right, cutting through the quiet like a cannon blast. To anybody else, it would have sounded menacing. To Elena, it just sounded pained…and sad.

"I'm not hiding," Damon said, the unmistakable sound of glass on glass echoing through the room as he set what she imagined was an expensive crystal tumbler of even more expensive bourbon on one of the antique tables.

"Then why are you in the dark?" she demanded, looking in the direction of the sound as she held her hands out in front of her and took a step forward, stubbing her toe and nearly falling over a winged back chair she could have sworn hadn't been there the last time she was in the room. "Shit! Ow."

Damon flicked the switch on one of the many Tiffany lamps scattered around the room as Elena rubbed her sore toe through her shoe. Scowling, she glared at the smirk twisting his incredibly inviting lips. "You couldn't have turned that on _before_ I almost killed myself?"

"I don't need the light to see, Elena," he reminded her, picking up his glass and taking a large swallow. Gesturing with it, he pointed at her. "And I have given up on trying to keep you from killing yourself."

"So, you're not over it then," she said, standing straight and closing the distance between them. The lamp was little more than decorative and the low wattage bulb barely penetrated the stained glass, casting strange shadows and colors across his face.

"Over what?"

"Your little temper tantrum," she shrugged, taking the glass from his hands and sipping the mystery alcohol. It burned going down, but the warmth was stronger and smoother than usual. Definitely the good stuff. Licking her lips, she didn't miss the way his eyes were drawn downward or the way they'd darkened when he met her gaze again.

"Is that why they sent you after me?" he asked, raising a brow. "To lure me back to the Suicide Squad?"

"No one _sent _me, Damon," Elena said, sighing in exasperation. "I came on my own."

"Why?"

"Are you serious?" she demanded, shoving the drink back at him hard enough to make the liquid slosh over the edge of the glass and onto his fingers. "You can't…you can't just bail."

"Watch me," he replied, lifting one shoulder as if her impassioned decree wasn't worth the effort of a full shrug. "I don't want any part of this."

"But you know I can do it," she insisted, wishing she'd succeeded in formulating some kind of speech while she'd been fruitlessly searching empty rooms. She didn't relish the idea of facing Klaus as Katherine, but she knew it was their best option. "God, for once, I wish I could be something other than this liability that has to be protected."

"Who's stopping you?" he demanded, slamming his glass on the table with more force than before. Taking a step forward, he forced her to crane her neck to meet his eye. "If you want to kill yourself to save Stefan, go right ahead. Just don't expect me to be there cheering you on."

"Stefan? This isn't about Stefan," she said, frowning in confusion. "Why would you even think that?"

With irritating familiarity, Damon deftly slipped his fingers beneath the pendant hanging from her throat and held it up to the light. Elena's stomach flipped like she'd been caught doing something wrong as his icy blue gaze bore into her. "Who isn't it about?"

Elena stared at him, trapped between hating him and wanting to do whatever it took to permanently erase that wounded look in eyes. Damon had found the stupid necklace and given it back to her so many times, she'd stopped thinking of it as merely a gift from Stefan. Instead, it was a symbol of her humanity, the vulnerability that she and everyone else had worked so hard to protect – Damon above all others.

_He _didn't know that though, and on some level Elena had known that seeing her wearing it again would cause him pain.

Her anger spiked, however, as she snatched the necklace away and turned toward the door. He had no claim over her, in fact, he'd explicitly said that what had happened between them changed nothing, that it was a mistake. Where did he get off being offended that she was wearing a freaking talisman against vampires when she was stuck in a house full of them? Lifting her chin, she glared over her shoulder. "This is about killing _Klaus, _Damon. Why do I even have to-."

Suddenly, she was being grabbed from behind, one strong, solid arm locking around her waist to pull her flush against a familiar, male body. With his other hand, Damon grabbed the pendant and ripped the necklace off, throwing it to the floor where it skittered into the shadows. Before she could utter a word of protest, he'd pulled her head to the side, baring her neck.

"That's how fast it'll be," he said, the words whispering intimately over her flesh, soothing the stinging pain from where the chain had cut into her neck, as he pressed his cheek to her crown. The rough treatment was meant to terrify her, but after an entire day of accidental touches and looks that would melt the polar ice caps, his hold sent an instant erotic charge through her body. Her hands rose, closing around the forearm across her chest, but she didn't try to pull it away. "The second Klaus figures out that you're not Katherine – and he will – you'll be _lucky_ if he kills you quickly."

"Damon," she gasped, her anger slowly dissolving into a passion of a different kind.

"If you're not, he'll play with you first," he said, trailing his knuckles down the side of her face to the base of her throat. "Torture you, taste you…make your last moments so unbearable it'll be the stuff of legends just because you defied him and didn't die the first time."

"He won't find out," Elena whispered. "He thinks I'm dead, he won't expect it. Just like the vampires in the bar-."

"You think because you fooled a bunch of drunken idiots you can deceive a fucking Original?" Damon demanded, tightening his hold and almost pulling her off of her feet. Elena could barely breathe around her racing heart and his iron grip, but she only offered a half-hearted struggle as the erotic tension surged between them.

"I don't have to fool him forever," she replied softly. "Just…just long enough for Bonnie to set the trap." She paused, losing her train of thought as she gave in and allowed her body to relax against his. Allowing some of her fear and desperation to slip into her voice, she added huskily. "But I know I can't if you're not there."

The confession hung in the air – blatant emotional blackmail – but Damon wasn't playing fair either. Muttering a curse, he buried his face in her throat as she let her head fall back against his shoulder. No longer meant to threaten, his hold on her became an intimate embrace as his hands moved over her body. Elena sighed as she lifted an arm to thread her fingers through his hair.

"Elena…I can't-," he murmured, his lips brushing over the vein that he'd fed from and making her tremble. Lifting his head, he dragged his mouth up to her ear and whispered. "I won't watch him kill you again."

Elena closed her eyes, as his lips blazed a heated trail across her cheekbone to her temple. There were reasons why this was a bad idea – she was supposed to be mad at him and he thought what happened between them was a mistake; the house was full of people who didn't need to know that she couldn't be alone in a room with him for more than five minutes before physically aching to feel his hands on her bare skin; she and Stefan were over, but Damon didn't know that and she needed to tell him what wearing the necklace really meant. These reasons and a million others were why she shouldn't be pressing against him as he slid his fingers below the waistband of her jeans.

Intent on stopping the inevitable by telling him at least one of those very important things, Elena tried to ignore the way his ragged breathing matched her own. Opening her mouth to speak, she failed them both by simply uttering a broken plea. "Please, Damon…I need you."

She hadn't meant she needed him to kiss her, but when his lips found hers, she moaned and clenched her fingers in his hair as she kissed him back. Opening her mouth for him, she tasted the bourbon he'd been drinking mixed with the danger and heat that had been there in the motel. Although it had only been two days, she realized she'd been starving for him, for this connection and it pushed all other thought out of her mind.

Anxious for better access, Elena twisted around, wrapping her arms around his neck and practically climbing up his body in an attempt to get closer. Damon's hands were in her hair, clenched into fists around the long strands as he backed her into the wall. She gasped as her back made contact, and he took the opportunity to blaze a trail of open mouthed kisses down the column of her throat. When he finally came back to her mouth, she kissed him eagerly, biting his bottom lip in reproach for not playing fair.

The sound he made in response – a low moan into her mouth that vibrated straight to the core of her being – almost made her come right then and there.

Sliding one hand down her body, Damon grabbed her leg, lifting it to his waist as he thrust against her, bringing them impossibly closer. So close, she could feel every inch of his arousal through the barrier of their clothes. Crying out as a wave of pleasure robbed her of breath, she opened her eyes to find him staring at her. Frozen, she stared back as the reality of what they were about to do – again – cut through the haze of desire. Taking a deep breath, her breasts grazed his chest, sending an erotic pulse from her tight, sensitive nipples straight to her very hot, very wet center. "You said this was a mistake."

"Your words," Damon said, swallowing as he struggled to pull air into his lungs. He'd slipped a hand under her shirt, caressing the smooth skin of her stomach as he spoke. "I was just borrowing them."

"Wait, _what?_" she demanded, doing her best to keep her body in check as her hips threatened to move against his of their own accord and only failing a little. "I never said that."

"You did. To Caroline," he insisted, resting his forehead against hers and keeping his mouth just out of reach. "You said you'd made a huge mistake."

Blinking, Elena struggled to recall the conversation she'd had with Caroline at the motel – the only one she'd had with anybody regarding what had transpired between her and Damon – and a sinking horror swept through her as she realized what he'd heard.

And more importantly, what he obviously _hadn__'__t _heard.

Framing his face with her hands, she forced him to look at her. "Damon, I wasn't talking about us."

"What?" he demanded as his eyes widened in disbelief. The stone that had been weighing on her heart melted away, leaving her giddy.

"You really should have stayed for the whole conversation," she gently chided as she traced his lips with her thumb. _A __misunderstanding, _she thought, wanting to laugh. It had all been a misunderstanding. "I meant it when I said I didn't regret being with you. The mistake was the timing."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to be like Katherine," she said, tears pricking at her eyes even though she was the farthest thing from sad. "I don't want to play you and Stef-."

Kissing her before she could utter another word, Damon used his mouth on hers to pull at the deepest parts of her being and push all coherent thought from her mind. She'd never been kissed, _consumed, _like this, but she had no problem kissing him back with equal passion. This small confession among the mountain of truths she still had to share, had released a piece of his heart she hadn't known he'd been holding back.

Damon lifted her other leg and she wrapped them both around his waist, needing no further encouragement to forget everything and everybody else and lose herself in him. Breaking the kiss, she stripped her shirt over her head and tossed it carelessly aside. Her skin was already on fire, but when his lips skirted the swells of her breasts, his tongue dipping below the lacey edge of her bra to tease her flesh, Elena was certain she would melt. Making quick work of the buttons of his shirt as he worked his way back up to her mouth, she frantically fumbled to undo his belt.

"Elena!" She barely heard her name through the haze of desire, but Damon's sharper senses picked up on it and the amazing things he was doing with his lips and tongue came to a sudden stop.

"Elena, where are you?" the voice – Caroline's, her brain dimly registered – called again, closer to the slightly open door of the study.

Muttering a few colorful threats as to the various ways he planned on killing her best friend, Damon buried his face in her shoulder. Letting her head fall back against the wall, Elena swallowed and tried to catch her breath. "I'll be right there, Caroline."

"Sweet. Jeremy just told everybody he can talk to dead people and he's going to try to channel Liliana…or something," Caroline continued as Damon straightened, and helped her ease her feet back to the floor. Elena's legs felt like jelly, but they managed to support her. "Are you coming?"

Meeting Damon's eye, she raised a brow. "Apparently not."

"What?" Caroline asked as Damon smirked and grabbed her shirt from the floor.

"I'll be there in a second," Elena called, listening to her best friend's footsteps echo off the hardwood floor and fade as she made her way back to the living room. Pulling her shirt over her head, she ran her fingers through her hair as Damon buttoned his again. He went for his belt, but she beat him to it, fastening it for him before she curled her fingers around it and added in a whisper. "You will be too, right."

Damon sighed in defeat, briefly closing his eyes. "You know I'll be there."

"Thank you," she replied, leaning in to kiss him again, but he caught her face and held her at bay.

"Elena…" he sighed, closing his eyes and burying his fingers into her hair. "If you kiss me again we'll never get out of here."

With effort, she let go of his belt, nodding as she took a step away. Despite how badly she wanted him, they had more pressing things to worry about at the moment. "When this is over, when Klaus is gone, we finish this conversation, okay?"

"Elena, survive this stupid non plan and I'll do anything you want." Damon promised, holding her gaze for a moment before tipping his head toward the door. "Let's go see what's up with Haley Joel before Caroline busts in here and drags you out by your hair."


	22. A Constellation of Doubt

_AN: Many thanks for the amazing replies. You guys make my day...and my beta's day when you mention the excellent grammar - because that's all her. LOL After yesterday's awesome ep I kinda feel like this may be a letdown, but I'll let you be the judge. ;p Enjoy!_

Chapter Twenty-Two – A Constellation of Doubt

Lying on his back in bed, Stefan scowled at the ceiling and wrestled with the gnawing thirst burning at the back of his throat. He hadn't fed since the previous day's hunt and while he didn't physically need it yet, the bloodlust was pulling him under, wreaking havoc on his fragile peace of mind. He knew the freezer in the basement was well-stocked and as unappetizing as the sterile, cold blood bags sounded, he was willing to drink them to keep the insanity at bay.

He made no move to get out of bed, however, as he watched the progress of the rising sun banish the shadows in his room. Beside him, Katherine stretched before curling into his side, twining her unabashedly naked limbs with his as she brushed her lips over his bare skin. Running his fingers through the chocolate curls splayed across his chest, he contemplated the dueling emotions of love and hate that coursed through him. As much as he loved Katherine, he hated how much he needed her. Even now, as she did nothing but sleep peacefully in his arms, the weight of her body eased the distracting hunger threatening his control.

_Is __that __all __this __is? _he wondered, doubt twisting his stomach into knots. Ever since his talk with Elena, he hadn't been able to shake the idea that what he thought of as love was nothing more than a safety net. Being with Katherine calmed him, allowing him to exist as a true vampire and he didn't want to lose it, but he needed it to be real. He needed to know that if he flipped the switch and allowed his humanity back into play, that Katherine would still be the one he wanted. The only way to prevent the cracks between them from widening into an insurmountable gulf was to remove all the doubt she had about his true feelings.

If he couldn't, he'd lose her forever. The idea of spending eternity on his own, on human blood or animal, Good Stefan or Bad, his ultimate fear of being alone never changed.

_God,__I__really__need__blood,_he thought, closing his eyes to the unwelcome introspection that washed over him, but it wouldn't go away. His fear of loneliness dominated all other thought, causing his chest to tighten. Roughly, he pushed Katherine off of him and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the mattress to the hardwood floor. Bracing his elbows on his knees, he held his head in his hands.

"What's wrong?" Katherine asked and even half asleep she sounded like sex and blood and everything he ever wanted. When he didn't reply, he felt the bed shift as she rose. Wrapping her arms around him from behind, she draped one over his shoulder as she nibbled – none too gently – at his neck. "Come back to bed, Stefan."

He briefly contemplated doing just that, but a wave of revulsion – not for Katherine, but for his own weakness – swept over him and he shoved her violently away. Getting completely out of bed, he began searching for his clothes. "I have some things to do."

"What _things_?" she demanded, raising a brow in scornful disbelief.

"I need to call Klaus and convince him he can still trust me," he explained, pulling on a pair of jeans. "Or you're going to have to spend the _next_ five hundred years looking over your shoulder, too."

"We."

"What?" he asked, pausing with his arms stuffed through the sleeves of a navy blue t-shirt.

"_We_will have to spend the next five hundred years looking over _our_shoulders," she clarified, watching him carefully. Propped up on her elbow with the sheets pooled around her waist and her hair a glorious mess of tousled curls, she was so beautiful Stefan struggled to remember exactly why he'd wanted to leave his room. Ever.

"Right," he nodded, pulling the shirt over his head. "We."

Katherine muttered something unintelligible under her breath as he stuffed his feet into his shoes and began searching for his keys. Her voice dripped with acid as she said aloud. "Don't do me any favors, Stefan. I can take care of myself, _I_certainly don't _need_ you."

In a flash, his mood shifted from longing to an intense irritation as her jealousy reared its head. He discovered his keys underneath one of her tall black boots as a myriad of harsh rebukes danced across his tongue. He could easily hurt her with words, especially now that he knew she was as desperate for him as he was for her, but he didn't. Choosing apathy instead, he left her in his bed without a second look, closing the door behind him and heading for the stairs.

Wrenching the front door open so hard it nearly popped off its hinges, Stefan raced through, leaving it ajar as he made his way into the sunshine. The dissonance in his head grew in proportion to the distance he put between himself and Katherine, but he didn't turn back. Breaking out into a run, all thoughts of calling Klaus fled from his mind as one central idea repeated itself over and over.

_This can't go on._

Stopping in the middle of the dense forest surrounding Mystic Falls, Stefan reached out with his senses. The novelty of being able to utilize the full extent of his vampiric capabilities hadn't worn off and he didn't want it to, but he couldn't fathom an eternity of clinging to Katherine like some sort of sobriety crutch. He wanted to tell her that he loved her without the unspoken caveat of 'and you keep me sane' attached to it.

More importantly, he wanted her to believe him.

Abruptly, he turned around and set off at full speed in the opposite direction. The forest gave way to residential streets, but Stefan didn't slow down. The streets were relatively empty in the early morning hour, leaving little chance that he'd been seen. Leaping up the front steps onto the town sheriff's porch, Stefan pounded on the front door.

"Caroline!" he bellowed, bracing his arms on the white door frame. A few seconds later, the inner door was yanked back and the screen door popped open so quickly it nearly smacked him in the face.

"What the hell is your problem, Stefan?" she demanded, slipping out onto the porch and wrapping a robe around her body before closing the door. "My _mother__'__s_inside."

"Whatever, she knows about you right?" he shrugged, bracing his hands on his hips to catch his breath. "About vampires?"

"So, not the point," she hissed, clenching her teeth. "She just worked all night and she's tired and I'm trying to decide if I should tell her that we're inviting the ultimate evil vampire slash werewolf _thing_ to town."

"Okay. Sorry," he said, holding up his hands. He didn't _feel_ sorry, but he knew Caroline would be more inclined to help him if he seemed contrite.

"Whatever," she shrugged, crossing her arms and eyeing him suspiciously. "What are you doing here?"

"I need your help," he stated, skipping the preamble.

"My help?" she repeated incredulously, her blue eyes widening. "After what you did to Elena, what makes you think I'd help you?"

Stefan scowled at the ground, reminding himself that after Damon snapped Jeremy's neck they'd all sworn they'd never forgive him. "Look, I didn't want to hurt Elena that night and I don't now. I lost control. Help me make sure it doesn't happen again."

Pursing her lips, Caroline raised a brow. "How?"

Swallowing around the fiery thirst burning in his throat, Stefan tried not to choke on his words. "I need you…to help me sober up."

"Sober up?" she repeated, frowning. "You mean…"

"Animal blood," he replied with a grimace, reeling from the revulsion sweeping through his entire body. "I need to go back to animal blood."

"Why me?" she demanded, making him clench his fists in annoyance.

"Jesus, Caroline. Because I'm the reason Damon didn't stake you after you turned. You _owe_ me," Stefan declared, stalking toward her until she'd backed up into the side of the house. "And I think I'm the last person you want to be indebted to."

* * *

><p>Dappled sunlight filtered through the trees as Damon entered the thick forest surrounding Mystic Falls. Nature wasn't really his thing. It made for nice eye candy, but the stately trees and babbling brooks teeming with wildlife had never given him solace or provided answers to his questions. They just…<em>were<em> and as badly as he wished for some sort of divine intervention to restore order to his life, he knew he had to figure out how to deal with Elena Gilbert changing all the rules on his own.

All night, memories of her – the way she'd felt, tasted and breathlessly murmured his name when he'd had her pressed against the wall of the study – had haunted his dreams. That morning, he'd woken with a foreign sensation burning in his chest – a feeling he hadn't had in over a century.

Hope.

Shaking his head at his own ridiculous sentimentality, he picked up the pace as the trees thickened. After both Katherine and Elena had rejected him, he'd spent a long time growing accustomed to wanting what he couldn't have. Loving Elena from afar hurt like a bitch, but he was comfortable with the unrequited thing. The all-consuming ache was a familiar companion that he'd reconciled himself to enduring for eternity.

The fact that he would love Elena forever was as unchangeable as the fact that he'd burn in the sun without his ring.

The idea of Elena loving him back, however, scared the shit out of him.

Katherine had added to his building panic in her predictable way that morning in the kitchen. Stefan had disappeared early, leaving her with a bad attitude and nothing better to do than drive Damon crazy with endless jabs about Elena even though he hadn't so much as mentioned the girl. As she'd poured whiskey in her coffee, she'd grinned devilishly and said. "I hope I'm around when this house of cards falls down, Damon, because you know it will. Elena may be swayed by your knight in shining armor act and Stefan's descent into the bloodlust, but it means nothing. She doesn't love you. Eventually, she'll break your heart or you'll fuck up so spectacularly that you'll push her away forever. There's no way that little girl can handle our world. Not for the long haul."

Shooting her a glare, Damon had silently left the house before he'd broken a bar stool and driven one of the wooden legs through her heart. He hadn't been hurt by her words, just annoyed that she'd read him like a freaking book.

The ground swelled in front of him and as he climbed to the top of a small hill. Katherine hadn't told him anything he hadn't already been thinking anyway and still it didn't matter. Hope was a terminal disease, and the second Elena had told him that he'd misunderstood – that she really didn't regret being with him – hope had burned through him like wildfire. It had destroyed every safeguard and wall he'd ever erected, butting against his doubts and the truth of Katherine's prediction, leaving him with nothing to hold onto. Every time he tried to tell himself that Elena could never love him, that it would always be Stefan, he'd remember the way she'd kissed him like she was desperate for it and could never get enough. Or the way she'd helped him dress and grabbed his belt like it was something she'd done a thousand times. For every certainty he had that there could never, ever be a Damon and Elena, hope reminded him of a moment that said otherwise.

"Why don't I ever learn?" he muttered, cresting a hill and staring in surprise at the familiar clearing spread out before him. Without thinking, he'd made his way to the tomb. After a moment, he shrugged and started down the gentle slope, searching for the opening to the cavern below. He hadn't been back to the place since Stefan had been trapped in the damn thing and if he had any hope – there was that fucking word again – of keeping Elena alive, it wouldn't hurt to check the place out.

He ducked through the entrance, pausing a few feet before the rocky floor gave way to the stairs as Bonnie's voice carried up from the shadowy depths.

"Please, Emily," she begged, desperation bleeding into her impassioned cry and piquing his curiosity. "Please, you have to help us. This isn't like Jeremy, this is for everybody. It's restoring the balance and everything we're supposed to be about."

Something hit the wall of the cavern with a muted _thwap_ before Bonnie dissolved into tears, her sobs echoing off the rough stone. A hard knot of dread twisted in Damon's stomach as he descended the stairs. A crying witch was never a good sign.

He found her huddled on the floor next to the open doorway of the actual tomb, her head buried in her hands as she cried piteously. The spellbook she'd found in the Missouri bookstore was lying open on the dirt floor. His boots scraped over the hard packed ground, making her gasp as she lifted her head.

"Damon, w-what are you doing here?" she asked, hastily wiping away her tears. Climbing to her feet, she plowed ahead before he had a chance to respond. "I was just…practicing. The spell, I mean. I'm not going to have much time, so I want to know the words by heart."

Damon stooped to retrieve the ancient book, glancing at the text on the crumbling pages. "'Please, Emily, please you have to help us,'" he quoted, raising a brow as he snapped the book shut and held it out to her. "What is that? Latin?"

"Damon…"

"Cause it sounds more like failure to me," he continued, keeping his tone light as he tried not to let the apprehension in his stomach turn to fear. "What's the problem, Bennett? Having some problems with your witchy reception? Aunt Emily not coming through the speakers?"

"It's nothing," Bonnie replied defensively, clutching the book to her chest as she avoided his gaze.

Narrowing his eyes, he studied her. "They cut you off, didn't they?"

Bonnie flinched. "I don't know what-."

"Do not lie to me," he interrupted, taking a menacing step toward her. Her best friend's life – not to mention her boyfriend's – was on the line and he was not about to let her _lie_to him. "Did the witches cut you off?"

A tear slipped down her cheek as she nodded. "Yes. When I brought Jeremy back they promised there would be consequences. I guess this was one of them."

"You _guess?_" Damon repeated, glaring at her in disgust. _This __is __why __I __don__'__t __play __well __with __others. __They __always __let __you __down._ "And when were you going to tells us about this? Before or after we put Elena in a room with an invincible monster that you apparently can't kill."

"I _can_," Bonnie insisted, pride replacing the tears in her eyes. "I just need to talk to Elijah."

"Elijah is a _vampire_, Bonnie. Yeah, he's impossible to kill permanently and plays a wicked game of quarters, but he's still just a vampire. He doesn't have all the answers," Damon snapped, running his hands through his hair as he turned away. He should have known something like this would happen. Something like this _always _happened – especially when dealing with witches.

"Please don't tell the others."

Whirling around, Damon stared at her. "You don't seriously think you can hide this, do you?"

Bonnie bit her lip and looked away. "If I could just tap into more Power. That's all I need. Just a little boost."

Noticing her hesitation and grudgingly curious, he asked. "Are the witches your only option?"

Her gaze landed on him before skittering away a split second later. "There's…another way."

"Well?" he prompted.

"Power is just…energy, Damon. Everybody has it. Even you," she explained reluctantly, tracing the pattern on the front of the book with a fingertip. "It's what kept the tomb vampires alive, even without blood. The only thing that makes me different is that I can manipulate it."

"I'm listening."

"The longer you live, the more Powerful you become, even if you can't tap into it," she continued, hesitantly looking up at him through her lashes. "When…when a being crosses from this realm into the next, their Power is released. There's a short time frame before it dissipates into the ether and if a witch knows what they're doing, they can harness it to amplify their Power."

Damon narrowed his eyes. "Crosses over? You mean dies, right?"

"Yes."

"You're talking about a fucking sacrifice."

Bonnie's head nodded once, reluctantly.

"Isn't that black magic, Bonnie?" he asked, closing in on her again as he crossed his arms. "I thought you only wanted to use your powers for good."

Lifting her chin, she nodded again. "Don't worry about it. It won't come to that. The witches hate Klaus as much as we do. They find his existence insulting, so they're probably just trying to scare me. I have been making a lot of demands lately. They'll come through."

"And if they don't?" he pressed, stupidly hoping there was another back up plan she just hadn't gotten around to sharing.

"They will," Bonnie insisted, bottling up the tears as she made her way toward the stairs. Her shoulders were set in a determined line, but Damon could see the faint tremble in her limbs as she slowly climbed the stairs. Near the top, she turned back, offering him a strained, tight-lipped smile. "Don't worry."

Damon watched her disappear as silence descended in the cavern, her words echoing around him. Eyeing the gaping black maw of the tomb, he closed his eyes and cursed. "Son of a bitch. We are so screwed."

* * *

><p>Caroline paused at the edge of the woods, glancing over her shoulder as she impatiently waited for Stefan. He'd been right that morning – she <em>had <em>owed him for the help he'd given her after she turned. Even though he'd acted like a petulant child being told to eat their Brussels sprouts, hunting for forest creatures with him hadn't been _that_bad.

"Are you coming?" she called into the distance, waiting for him to appear through the dense foliage.

"Relax, Caroline," he muttered, trudging into view. "I'm right here."

Bracing a hand on her hip, she watched him stare at his feet as he approached and rolled her eyes. "You know, I like to think that becoming a vampire has made me a more patient and understanding person, but you are really testing that theory."

"Uh huh," he grunted noncommittally, joining her as they made their way across the vast grounds of the Salvatore estate.

"I mean, really," she continued. "I know that bunnies are kinda unsatisfying after drinking all that human blood, but you used to live on them. How can they possibly be that disgusting to you now?"

"You don't understand," he grimaced, repeating the same mantra he'd thrown at her all day.

"Clearly," she huffed as the trees thinned further and the house came into view. A black SUV was just pulling into the driveway and she watched as Elena and Jeremy climbed out. They were smiling and laughing about something and Caroline couldn't help smiling as well upon seeing her friends happy. There hadn't been enough of that emotion in their lives lately. Remembering Stefan, she glanced at him nervously. "You're sure you're okay, right? You're not going to lose it and attack Elena again, are you?"

"No," he said slowly, stopping in the middle of the yard to glare at her. "But if you ask me one more time, I might attack you."

"How long are you going to be all cranky like this?" she demanded, reverting back to Blunt and Demanding Caroline Forbes. Patience and understanding were lost on Stefan at the moment anyway.

Closing his eyes, he drew a deep breath. "Believe me, if you'd seen how insane I went the last time, you'd think this was a walk in the park."

"I suppose. Same time tomorrow then?" Caroline asked, waiting for his nod before she jogged ahead to catch up with Elena. After a few yards, she turned, running backwards. "Hey, have you ever tried just stopping when you're full instead of pigging out all the time? I mean, you don't _have_to clean your plate at every meal. The starving children in Africa don't like what you're eating anyway."

Much to her delight, Stefan actually smiled at her stupid joke, shaking his head as he veered toward the back of the house. Turning around, she kicked up the speed a notch and made it to the front step just as Elena was about to enter the house.

"Caroline," she gasped, staggering back in surprise. "Wh-what's up?"

Grinning mischievously, she said. "I want to know what I interrupted last night."

Elena blushed, lowering her eyes as she tucked her hair behind her ear. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Vampire, remember?" Caroline said, tapping her ear for added emphasis. "But I didn't need super-senses to hear all that heavy breathing through the door, so spill."

Seriously, Care?" Elena demanded incredulously. "With everything going on you want to talk about my love life?"

"Ha, so you admit there's something to talk about!" Caroline replied gleefully.

A smile tugged at the corners of Elena's lips as she scoffed and struggled for words. "I…why…maybe, okay? _Maybe _there's something to talk about, but-."

"But nothing," Caroline shook her head, looping her arm through her friend's and guiding her down the steps away from the overly-sensitive ears within the house. She wouldn't put it past Katherine to be lurking just on the other side of the door, spying on them. "You are my friend and unless I'm mistaken you don't have anybody else to talk to at the moment, right?"

"Well…right."

"And talking to me before helped, right?"

Elena rolled her eyes, smiling indulgently. "Yes, Caroline."

"And…I saw you and Stefan yesterday," she said gently, carefully gauging her friend's reaction. "It looked…like something you might need to talk about."

The smile fell from Elena's face as she took a deep breath. "We broke up. Officially."

Even though the revelation wasn't much of a surprise, Caroline gasped. "Really?"

"Neither one of us said 'it's over', but yeah," she nodded, blinking furiously. "It sucked, but in a way it was a relief."

Narrowing her eyes, Caroline latched on to the admission and dug for more. "How so?"

"Because I…I'm not in love with him anymore," Elena replied, crossing her arms and shivering a little as if the temperature wasn't hovering near eighty-five. "And before you ask, it's not because of what he did to me in Savannah. We've been broken for a long time. It…really doesn't have anything to do with him at all."

"Bet I can guess who it does have to do with," Caroline teased, determined to discover the source of that blindingly giddy grin she'd seen from afar. "A certain blue-eyed, dark haired pain in the ass, maybe?"

Again, Elena fought the grin pulling at her lips, this time going so far as to cover her face with her hands. "Caroline…I can't."

"Can't what?" she laughed, grabbing Elena's wrists. "Confirm what I already know? Even if you hadn't told me about Savannah, you and Damon were the only two who _weren__'__t_in the living room when I went looking for you. Even_I_ can do that math, so…back to my original question. What did I interrupt last night?"

Caroline could tell from the bright sparkle in her eye that Elena was practically dying to reveal everything, but something was holding her back. "What is it?"

"Is it okay to be happy about this?" Elena asked, her brow furrowing in concern. "Seriously, Caroline. For a year, until just a few weeks ago, my world revolved around Stefan and… and now I'm…I'm in love with Damon. I mean, what does that say about me?"

Smiling sadly, Caroline thought of Matt and Tyler and shrugged. "It says you're human in every annoying, hypocritical, fantastic way. You can't help who you fall in love with, Elena, _trust_ me. I don't know, maybe you were always meant to be with Damon. You just…had to take the scenic route to get there."

"You're being awfully encouraging," Elena said, eyeing her warily. "Especially considering things between you and Damon haven't always been…"

"Real? Honest? Non-compelled?" Caroline supplied, rolling her eyes. She hadn't necessarily forgiven Damon for the way he'd treated her when he first came to Mystic Falls. It was insulting to know that she'd been used like as blood bank, but she'd known he was dangerous the first time she'd laid eyes on him at the Grille and that was _exactly _why she'd pursued him. "Yeah, well, it's kind of hard to hate the guy once he's saved your life."

"Don't I know it," Elena mused.

"So, now that we've got _that _out of the way…," she said, nearly bouncing on her toes with excitement. She _loved _this part – the part where everything was new and scary and exhilarating. And she was so not above living vicariously through her best friend to enjoy it. "Have you told Damon that you're in love with him?"

Elena held her gaze for a long moment before finally giving in to the happiness that was flowing from her in waves. "No. I thought I should wait until…things have died down."

"No way," Caroline shook her head, gripping her friend's shoulders. "No, you need to tell him now. Vampire or not, life's too unpredictable to save the big stuff for tomorrow."

"I take it you've told Tyler then," Elena said, grinning slyly.

Caroline felt her cheeks burn as she played dumb and asked innocently. "Told Tyler what?"

"The same thing you want me to tell Damon," she teased. Caroline's face must have showed her shock because Elena quickly added. "Please, you don't think I picked up on the vibes between you two while I waited all night for Damon in the motel? It was almost embarrassing to be in the same room with you two. I'll make you a deal. I'll tell Damon, if you tell Tyler."

Caroline pursed her lips, mulling over the equally terrifying and thrilling idea. She hadn't even considered the 'L' word, but it felt...right. Scarily right. Finally, she nodded. "Deal."

* * *

><p>Making his way back to the house, Damon tried to decide if he'd rather deal with hope or impending doom. He'd stayed in the tomb for an hour, considering options as varied as vervaining Katherine and handing her over to kidnapping Elena and simply vanishing off the face of the planet. The world was a vast place and he had no doubt he could keep them hidden for a very long time. At least long enough for Elena to get over being pissed at him and maybe, possibly coming back around to where they'd been last night.<p>

Bonnie's faith – if it was even legitimate – that the witches would do the right thing and help them defeat Klaus was bullshit. Witches were just as self-serving as the rest of the world and these ones were already dead. What the hell did they care what happened on this plane of existence? There was no way around it. Elena's life was on the line once again and as usual it was up to him to figure out a way to save it.

Emerging from the forest, he saw his driveway once again crammed full of cars. _Hail, __hail, __the __gangs__' __all __here,_ he thought, drawing a fortifying breath as his gaze landed on Elena and Caroline, deep in conversation beside the Gilbert SUV. Standing motionless in the deepening twilight, he had a perfect, unobstructed view of Elena's face as a smile so beautiful curved her perfect lips that it nearly brought him to his knees.

She was _happy_, laughing at something Caroline said in a way that reminded him of her peers – the ones who'd managed to live on the edge of the supernatural world without being an actual part of it. This was the side of Elena he'd loved first, even though he hadn't realized it at the time – the one he'd met in her kitchen while they'd washed dishes and she'd told him she was sorry because he'd lost Katherine, too. That had been before…_everything__ –_ before she'd found out that vampires were real and that Katherine wasn't just some ex-girlfriend he and Stefan had fought over, but a five hundred-year-old menace who had come within inches of completely destroying the Salvatores. _She __looks __so __innocent, _he decided, watching her smile and hopelessly wishing he were the cause. He winced as something sharp sliced directly through his heart.

_What the fuck am I doing? _

Damon knew he didn't deserve Elena Gilbert – not just because of what he'd done since arriving in Mystic Falls a year ago, but for everything he'd ever done through the course of his entire existence. He destroyed everything he touched, either on purpose or by accident, and death accompanied him everywhere he went. Elena had lost so many people since he and Stefan had come back to town. For every good thing they'd done, for every time they'd saved her life, a piece of her had been irrevocably changed. She'd never have the normal life she deserved and it was all because of them. If a miracle was to happen and he was actually allowed to love her and be loved in return, he'd destroy that, too. He was too cynical, too broken and far, far too damaged.

He'd destroy her.

Damon watched, unable to breathe, as Elena and Caroline went inside the house to join the others. Bonnie's confession returned to him, reminding him that Elena's pain was far from over. This time tomorrow, she'd be getting ready to take on an Original without backup – all because she'd had the misfortune to fall in love with Stefan and was naïve enough to think she could save him from his own nature. An absolute certainty washed over him as he realized she was going to die.

And there was nothing he could do to stop it.

"_The longer you live, the more powerful you become." _

Shaking himself from his paralysis, he blurred across the street and slipped inside the door. Seeking out Bonnie, he found her perched on the couch in the exact same spot as the night before. "Hey, witchy! I need to talk to you."

Glowering at him, Bonnie rose and hurried out to the foyer. Scowling, she demanded. "What?"

"Have you told anybody about your inability to perform?" he asked, glancing over her shoulder at Elena.

"No," she bristled, crossing her arms. "I was waiting until _you_got back."

"Don't," he said.

Her eyes widened as she stared at him as if he'd lost his mind. "But Damon, we need to come up with another plan-."

"Shut up and listen," he snapped, tearing his gaze away from Elena and focusing on Bonnie. "You said that the longer a person or being has been alive, the greater their Power, right?"

"Yeah."

Nodding, he took a deep breath and bit the bullet. "Would one hundred and seventy years give you enough?"

"Damon…what are you talking about?" Bonnie asked, eyeing him nervously.

Glancing into the living room, his gaze was automatically drawn to Elena. Closing his eyes, he said. "Use me."

"What?"

"You heard me," Damon said, opening his eyes and backing Bonnie into the wall as he advanced on her. "Don't tell anybody about the witches cutting you off. I'll be in the tomb and when the moment is right you do what you've been _dying_to do since your Grandmother died."

"Damon, I…I can't," she stammered, shaking her head as if the gesture would somehow weaken his resolve. "I can't _kill_ you – not even for a sacrifice. Elena would never forgive me."

"Yes, you can. You have to," he insisted, placing his hands on his shoulder and peering into her eyes with enough intensity to compel. "But so help me, if you fail and Elena dies, I will haunt you until the end of time."


	23. Lambs to the Slaughter

_AN: I have to admit after the show tonight, my beta and I are feeling pretty smug. We spent the majority of the summer analyzing character motivation and emotional beats and after seeing Katherine bring the humanity out of Stefan in tonight's ep…well, as I said, we're feeling a little smug. _

_Tonight's episode was amazing and while I'm sad that the show won't be back for two months, what a way to go out, right? Character motivation and emotional beats aside, I WISH I could come up with plot twists as amazing as the writers of TVD. As it is, here's my hiatus gift to you and my humble attempt at creating suspense and maybe, hopefully, making you go WTF a couple times. Enjoy!_

Chapter Twenty-Three – Lambs to the Slaughter

Sitting on the edge of his bed, Stefan held his cell phone in the palm of his hand and dragged his thumb along the edge of the small device. His head was pounding as the animal blood messed with his senses, making them ebb and flow erratically as it spread throughout his body. Closing his eyes, he tried to focus on his breathing, but the voices carrying up the staircase distracted him. They grew louder and louder, hammering at his skull in a maddening cacophony of sound until he couldn't even think.

Growling in frustration, he blindly hurled his phone away from him, expecting to hear the plastic shatter as it hit the wall. Instead, he heard the soft _thwap _of matter hitting flesh.

"Nice to see you, too," Katherine said as Stefan opened his eyes. Leaning against the doorframe, she held up his phone before turning it over in her hands as she studied it. Pushing away from the door, she crossed the room to stand in front of him as she waved the phone in his face. "It's going to be hard to call Klaus if you don't have his number."

Stefan stared at her for a moment as a bevy of wants and needs fought for precedence in his mind. He wanted to bite her and sate the thirst for human blood with what was running through her veins. He wanted to strip her naked and fuck her until the thirst was forgotten. He wanted to throw her into the wall and bash her head against the floor until she bled because this was her fault. The central truth behind his thoughts – he was in agony for _her._

Grabbing her wrist, he snatched the phone from her grasp and tossed it on the bed while pulling her to the edge of the mattress, between his spread knees. He wrapped his arms around her waist, and Katherine lifted a brow, a knowing glint flashing in her eyes, but before she could remind him that they had important business to attend to – the business of keeping her alive – Stefan bowed his head, pressing his face against the soft warmth of her stomach. He breathed her in, the scent of her perfume – jasmine and sandalwood, always – spreading through him and calming the discordant symphony of sight, sound and taste. Focusing on nothing but the reality of her body, he slowly fought through the withdrawal.

Katherine stood motionless for a moment before letting her arms encircle him. Hands that were rarely gentle, smoothed over his back, across his shoulder blades, soothing the tense muscles. Threading her fingers through his hair, she said nothing as he clung to her while she held him close. Minutes passed and eventually the storm did, too, leaving Stefan's nerves raw and sensitive, but manageable.

Lifting his head, his gaze traveled slowly up her body before alighting on her face. Two deep lines of worry marred her brow, but she didn't speak as she trailed her fingers over his jaw. Sifting through his emotions, Stefan tried to rejoice in the fact that he still wanted her – that there was no guilt or longing or anything connected to Elena –but it had only been twenty-four hours.

He could still lose Katherine.

"Nice reflexes," he murmured, retrieving his phone. Katherine smirked, sinking to the mattress next to him and leaning close. The swell of her breasts brushed against his arm as she propped her chin on his shoulder. Forgetting about the blood and Klaus, Stefan's gaze dropped to her lips and he couldn't resist leaning in for a taste.

Katherine kissed him back, indulging their hunger for each other for a brief moment before pulling away and placing a finger on his lips. Looking pointedly at the cell phone clutched in his hand, she said. "Call."

"Are you in a hurry to see Klaus again?" Stefan teased, dropping his hand to her thigh because actively touching her kept the withdrawal at bay.

"I'm in a hurry to get this done," Katherine replied. "I'm tired of running. I'm so over Klaus and all this doppelganger bullshit."

He nodded, pushing a button on his phone to bring it to life. Scrolling through the recent calls, he found Klaus's number and tapped the touch screen. Listening to the line ring, he met those brown eyes head on and held her gaze.

"Stefan Salvatore," the Original's silky voice came over the line, making Katherine tense as she closed her eyes and licked her lips. "I knew I hadn't heard the last of you."

"You need to come to Mystic Falls," Stefan said, ignoring the bait and getting straight to the point. Katherine wrapped her arm around his bicep, hanging on tightly.

"And why would I go back to that ridiculous little town?"

"Because you want Katherine," he said, gripping her thigh tighter. "And I've got her."

* * *

><p>Alaric pulled the heavy crystal stopper from one of the decanters and poured himself a generous serving of scotch as he surveyed the living room. Elena and Caroline were deep in conversation on one of the antique couches, acting like the high school seniors they were supposed to be rather than a mystical clone of some long dead creature and an immortal vampire. Tyler and Jeremy sat on the opposite couch while Elijah had reclaimed his spot by the fireplace, and was gazing curiously at the four teenagers whose combined age barely added up to a fraction of his lifespan.<p>

The idea of Originals intrigued Alaric, both as a teacher and as a hunter and he longed for the chance to quiz Elijah on his family and their early years. He had no delusions that he even ranked as high as a buzzing gnat to an Original, but the fact that he'd killed some of Elijah's less menacing kind was enough to keep him at a respectful distance.

Abruptly, Bonnie returned to the living room, clenching her jaw so tightly, Alaric thought it might shatter.

"Everything okay?" Jeremy asked as she sank to the cushions beside him and Alaric pretended _not_to be eavesdropping on his students.

"Just fine," the witch replied, holding herself rigidly straight on the edge of the seat. Crossing her arms, she stared ahead, fuming silently.

Leaning closer, Jeremy murmured. "You know I don't believe you, right?"

Bonnie glared at him, but softened quickly as the younger man refused to be put off by her attempt at intimidation. Taking a deep breath, she offered her boyfriend the smallest of smiles. "Yeah, but it's just…Damon being…_Damon._"

On cue, the elder Salvatore appeared, hovering in the doorway. Immediately, his gaze was drawn to Elena and a moment later she turned to look at him, smiling. What passed between them was palpable, intimate, and Alaric's protective instincts flared, forcing him to focus on splashing more alcohol into his glass. Vampire, werewolf or human, when a man looked at a woman the way Damon had just looked at Elena, it all meant the same thing, and as her de facto parent/guardian/big brother, he _really_didn't need to witness it.

He looked back up in time to see Damon walking away as the smile on Elena's face faltered slightly. Eyeing his friend, Alaric grabbed another glass and poured bourbon from a different decanter, holding it out as Damon joined him at the bar.

"You're winning points all over the place today," he said as Damon took the offered glass and the bottle of bourbon and tripled the serving of alcohol.

"What?" he asked, scowling and knocking back half of the contents of the glass in a single swallow.

Alaric rolled his eyes. "What'd you do to Bonnie?"

Damon stared at him with an overly blank expression that might as well have been a neon sign proclaiming the fact that he was about to play incredibly dumb. "What are you talking about?"

"She's ready to recruit Jeremy to kick your ass," Alaric said, gesturing toward the couple in front of them on the couch.

Damon spared her a single glance before he snorted. "Whatever. She's just pissed because I've been on her case about the spell."

"You don't think she can do it?"

"Doesn't matter," he replied, shaking his head and drinking more. "I promised to haunt her for all eternity if she fails, so..."

"That would certainly be enough to ruin my day," Alaric replied, taking a sip of scotch and savoring the taste. Sometimes it nearly killed him that Damon drank good liquor so damn quickly. "Are you really okay with this?"

"What?" Damon asked again, draining his glass and refilling it. Alaric sighed, resigning himself to prying every answer out with a crowbar.

"Elena," he said, gesturing with his glass toward the brunette on the opposite couch. "Playing Katherine for Klaus."

"Hell no," Damon scoffed immediately, unable to meet his friend's gaze. "But I have been outvoted, Ric, and to make matters worse, I can't think of a single viable Plan B."

Alaric tsked. "You're slipping."

"Seems that way," Damon muttered, finishing his drink only to immediately pour himself another.

They continued to drink in silence as the vampire tried to break some kind of record for how much alcohol he could consume in one sitting. As he poured his fourth glass in as many minutes, Alaric couldn't help saying something. "Are you sure getting wasted is the best idea right now?"

"This coming from _you,_" Damon snorted, finally sipping the bourbon instead of slamming it down.

"Is there something else going on?" he asked as he caught his friend staring across the room at Elena. "Did you figure things out with-."

"You're sticking around, right?" Damon asked suddenly, still looking at the object of his not so secret affections. "Even without Jenna, you're still planning on staying in town…keeping an eye on Elena and Jeremy?"

Alaric shifted his weight uneasily, taking his turn to study the siblings. "Elena's eighteen and Jeremy's not far behind. Technically, they don't need-."

"Screw technically," Damon snapped, turning his piercing gaze on him. "Answer the question."

Eyeing the vampire, Alaric decided not to push any further. "Ah, well…um…, since I somehow – miraculously – still have a job and a place to stay that I signed a lease on... yes. I plan on sticking around."

Wondering about the weird line of questioning, he watched Damon nod, as if to himself. "Good," Damon replied, forcing a tight lipped smile to his face. "That's good."

* * *

><p>Jeremy looked around the living room, paying special attention to any shadow or sudden movement he caught from the corner of his eye. For the past twenty-four hours, ever since he'd summoned Anna and Vicki and sent them on their mission to find Liliana, he'd been on edge. More than anything, he wanted this part of the plan over and done with. He was pleased to be useful for once, but he'd have rather been useful in a more badass fashion than sending the ghosts of his dead girlfriends on bizarre spy missions into enemy territory.<p>

Taking a moment from his surveillance, he shot a glance at Bonnie. She'd been less than thrilled that he'd kept his new ability to himself and even further pissed off that the spirits he'd been seeing were Vicki and Anna. He understood why she was upset to a point – he wouldn't want her spending quality time with any of her exes – but at the same time he wondered just what the hell he was supposed to do about it. He hadn't _asked_to see them. In fact, until the night Sheriff Forbes had shot him, he'd barely spared either girl a thought.

Of course, after they showed up in his house, they were all he _could_think about.

Sighing, he tore his gaze away from his girlfriend's unreadable features and glanced toward the doorway. Although he'd been watching and waiting for them to appear all night, the sight of Anna and Vicki hovering at the top of the two steps leading into the sunken room surprised the hell out of him.

"You're back," he murmured, pushing himself off the couch and making his way to the entrance. Louder, he announced. "Guys, they're back."

Instantly, the room fell silent and Jeremy felt every pair of eyes boring into his back as Anna and Vicki took in their audience. Seemingly nervous, Anna asked. "Are you sure they can't see us?"

He glanced over his shoulder, noting the range of expressions on the faces of his friends and family. It ran from intrigue – on Elijah's – to feigned boredom – on Damon's – but not a hint of recognition or surprise. "Yeah, I'm sure."

"It's kinda creepy the way they're all staring though," Vicki replied, stepping down into the living room and making her way over to Tyler. She waved a hand in front of his face, but he kept looking at the spot Jeremy had been addressing.

"Did you guys find Liliana?" he asked, eager to get to the point and send the ghosts on their way.

"No," Anna replied, rolling her eyes at the other girl and getting down to business. "She's not in Savannah."

"What?" Jeremy asked, arching his brows in surprise.

"What _what?_" Bonnie demanded. "What's wrong?"

"They said Liliana wasn't in Savannah," he replied.

"Maybe Klaus left already," Elena suggested.

"No, he's still there," Vicki said, walking slowly from person to person as she waved her hands around and tried to get their attention.

"We found his hotel," Anna explained, making a face. "That place is…disturbing. There were some really twisted spirits hanging around there."

"Klaus is still in Savannah," Jeremy passed along the information to the rest of the group before zeroing back in on Anna. "Did you ask around about Liliana?"

"Yeah, we talked to everybody who'd listen," Anna said, moving closer to Jeremy. "They all knew about the Originals, but nobody had ever seen or heard of Liliana hanging around. And they would have known. Given the whole 'impossible to kill' aspect of the Originals, the ghost of one would have drawn a lot of attention."

"Jeremy, what the hell is going on?" Damon demanded from his place next to Alaric at the bar.

"Dude, give me a minute," he snapped, barely glancing at the vampire as he pressed Anna for clarification. "So, what are you saying? That she's…she's never been a ghost?"

"The oldest spirit we found was about five hundred years old, so Liliana might have been a ghost for a while," Vicki supplied, finishing her circuit of the room and flanking his other side. Shrugging, she said. "But she's long since moved on."

"Moved on to what?"

Anna smiled sadly. "We don't know. But everybody thinks it's something better."

"Why?"

"It can't get much worse," Vicki supplied, her macabre humor still intact.

"Is there anything else we can do?" Anna asked hopefully, gazing up at him with a smile that still made him a little weak in the knees. Tempted to say yes, he glanced at Bonnie and saw the pain in her eyes even though she was trying her best to mask it.

"Not right now," he said as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. "But thanks."

The light faded from Anna's eyes as Vicki looped her arm through the shorter girl's and started to pull her away. "See ya around, Jer."

Shooting a glare at her companion, Anna added her own farewell and they faded out of sight near the bottom of the staircase. Jeremy stared at the empty space they had occupied, reminding himself that being haunted wasn't normal and that he shouldn't miss them when they were gone. Turning around, he faced the curious stares all round him.

"Well?" Damon pressed, setting his glass on the bar and crossing his arms.

"Liliana's not in Savannah," Jeremy said, repeating what Vicki and Anna had told him as he slowly retraced his steps to the couch. Sinking down to the cushions, he purposefully took Bonnie's hand and laced his fingers through hers.

"So…Klaus _isn__'__t _being haunted?" Tyler asked.

"It would appear not," Elijah said, frowning thoughtfully.

* * *

><p>Standing silently near the fire place, Elijah studied the odd assortment of human and supernatural beings with a keen eye. He'd learned long ago that his greatest asset was not his strength, speed or immortality, but his ability to read others. With it, he was able to know exactly what he was dealing with and how best to manipulate any given situation.<p>

Something had changed for everyone in the twenty-four hours since they'd last been assembled. The connection he'd first noticed in the kitchen between Damon and Elena had grown both stronger and more strained – a fascinating combination that he blatantly tried to discern by eavesdropping on Elena and Caroline's conversation as well as Damon and Alaric's. However, all involved were far too wary of the keen senses scattered about the room and kept their words deliberately vague.

The tension between Jeremy and Bonnie made more sense. The witch had been hurt to discover that her boyfriend had waited so long to tell her he was being haunted by his dead paramours. Elijah studied the witch's aloof features, knowing that there was more to her pain – that the fact that it had been her magic that brought Jeremy's past back with him from the other side had not been lost on her.

Equally intriguing was the new animosity between Bonnie and Damon. Neither one had made a secret of the fact that they merely tolerated each other when the situation demanded it, but this tension spoke of a fresh disagreement. Elijah had seen the vampire call the witch into the foyer, but hadn't thought to pay attention until it was too late.

_No __matter,_he mused. The answers would reveal themselves in due time.

Footsteps echoed on the stairs and he shifted his gaze to the doorway as Stefan and Katherine appeared. As usual, the original Petrova doppelganger wore her _otherness _like a badge of honor, slinking into the room just behind Stefan and draping herself over the arm of a wing back chair tucked into a corner. The younger Salvatore stayed close to his sire, although his focus was drawn to Caroline. The blonde vampire caught his gaze and raised her brows in question. Stefan's terse nod seemed to satisfy her, but she inched the slightest bit closer to Elena as the human studiously ignored her former lover.

Without waiting for an invitation, Jeremy filled Katherine and Stefan in on the news regarding Liliana. Katherine reacted in typical fashion.

"You mean Klaus wants me dead for no reason?" she demanded, sitting straighter in her chair, her indignation so powerful it flowed from her in waves.

"Well, not _no_reason," Damon said offering her his most charming grin. "He's met you."

"Go to hell, Damon," Katherine fired back.

"Klaus is coming," Stefan announced, making a preemptive strike against any further sparring between the two vampires and garnering him the attention of all assembled. "He'll be here tomorrow night."

"Does he know you're batting for the other team?" Damon asked, finishing yet another tumbler of bourbon.

Stefan flicked his gaze toward his older brother as Elijah marveled at the intricacies of the familial bond. Time was an amazing thing and it could either heal all wounds or keep them fresh with new layers of guilt and betrayal. The younger Salvatore crossed his arms over his chest, as if he was holding himself together, and shrugged. "No clue. I told him I'd earned Katherine's trust by leaving Savannah with her and then trapped her in the tomb when we got here. He seemed to buy it, but…"

"My brother can't be trusted," Elijah said, voicing what they were all thinking. He expected to feel the pain of betrayal, but there was nothing but the cold certainty of what he must do. "Klaus will come, I'm sure, and so we must prepare for anything."

"That's nice and vague," Tyler grumbled.

"I wonder if he'll have more hybrids," Caroline wondered, speaking to no one in particular.

Silence fell over the room as every head in the group swiveled her way, pressing her back into the cushions with the weight of their gazes. For the first time in a thousand years, Elijah wondered if his hearing was failing him.

Elena was the first to speak. "Excuse me, _what_? Did you just say-."

"Hybrids?" Damon finished, abandoning his drink for a moment and bracing his arms on the bar. "Plural? As in _more _than one?"

"Yeah, I…" Caroline stammered, bringing a hand to her mouth as she hazarded a glance at Tyler. Glaring, she hissed at him. "Didn't you tell them?"

"Me?" he choked out incredulously. "When was I supposed to-."

"When we got to Savannah you were going to-."

"Yeah, but it was like World War Three, I kind of forgot-."

"Hey! Shut up," Damon snarled, earning him guilty looks from both the vampire and the werewolf. "One of you, start talking."

Tyler held up his hands, giving Caroline the floor. Casting a dirty look his way, she licked her lips and started playing with a lock of sunny blonde hair. "Well, okay…it was like this," she started. Pausing to look at both Katherine and Elijah, she continued in a rush. "There was this werewolf guarding the cave where Klaus stashed you and it wasn't a full moon, so we thought that the silver collar around his neck was, like, forcing him to hold the change or something. So, Tyler kept the wolf calm while Katherine and I yanked off the collar and he – the wolf, I mean – went back to his human form so we thought 'okay, cool, he's…just normal now'. Well, that lasted for all of like, a few hours, and while we were trying to help him find his pack he started changing when it wasn't even a full moon into this weird, yellow-eyed vamp slash werewolfy thing and started chasing Tyler and me. Apparently, the silver collar was just something Klaus had lying around. We tried running, but we were getting more and more lost, so finally we faced him."

Silence filled the room once again as Caroline took a breath and looked to Tyler for confirmation that she'd hit the highlights. Shrugging, Tyler nodded his head.

"So, what _happened_?" Bonnie demanded as it became clear that neither one was going to offer any more information.

"Oh," Caroline started, looking around at the expectant expressions of her friends as they gaped at her. "I killed him."

Alaric frowned. "How?"

"I ripped his heart out," she replied, proudly turning to Damon. "You were right, it was totally easy."

Damon stared at her for a moment, a smile cracking his face before he dropped his head to his chest, his shoulders shaking with repressed mirth. "Jesus. You've got to…_Seriously_?"

"Yup," Caroline beamed. "He dropped like a sack of potatoes…or something."

"Fucking perfect," Damon muttered, lifting his head and addressing his brother. "Did you know about this?"

"That Klaus was making hybrids?" Stefan replied, shock animating his features. "Uh, no."

"You and your new _brother_ having trust issues already?" Damon quipped, revealing more to the underlying tension between the Salvatore's.

"For all I know, I might have helped him do it," Stefan admitted with a shrug, glancing over his shoulder at Katherine. "I wasn't really… paying a whole lot of attention."

"Well, at least we know they can be killed," Elena said, finding the bright side amidst the blame game. "That's something."

Katherine rolled her eyes. "Yeah, it's something, alright. It's something we didn't freaking _need._"

Allowing the conversation to flow around him, Elijah contemplated the revelation that Klaus had not only succeeded in breaking the centuries old curse, but had wasted no time in creating the hybrid family of which he'd always dreamed. Five hundred years ago, it might have pained him to know that the brother that he'd stood by for his entire existence had had plans for something bigger and better, but now he couldn't bring himself to care. He'd foolishly believed that beneath Klaus's single-minded pursuit of his own interests there existed a spark of family loyalty, but it had turned out to be nothing more than a fantasy.

Sighing, he silently watched Damon and Stefan snap at each other, sensing everything between them that he'd once thought he'd shared with Klaus and Liliana. Loyalty, love, respect, hatred, betrayal, regret…

Suddenly, the crushing weight of every day of every year he'd lived fell upon him at once and he felt excruciatingly ancient. And tired. So, very, very tired. He'd lived through countless wars, plagues and empires, seen the worst and best humanity had to offer as problems that had seemed crucial one day had turned into the footnotes in history books the next. Nothing ever changed, and in the grand scheme of things, even the life-altering threats these incredibly _young _individuals were facing at the hands of his brother would one day be forgotten. If any of the vampires in this room managed to live as long as he had, they too would learn the most important lesson of immortality.

Without something to live for, eternal life was just that – eternal.

"You know what this means, right?" Damon said, addressing the room as a whole, and drawing Elijah's attention back to him. "Klaus is nuts."

"What's your point?" Jeremy demanded, looking over his shoulder. "We kind of already know that."

"No, he's full on psychotic," Damon insisted, taking a drink of his bourbon as he gathered steam. "And we're completely fucked."

"How is this any different than before?" Katherine inquired, studying her nails.

"Well for starters, _hybrids,_" Damon replied scathingly. "Anybody have a clue what kind of damage a hybrid bite can do?"

"Tyler got bit," Caroline said brightly. "He's fine."

"To _vampires,_" he clarified.

"Oh," she replied, duly chastised. "That part I don't know."

"Exactly. Then there's the part where he thinks he's seeing his dead sister," he continued, glancing pointedly at Jeremy. "And if Vicki and Anna the Friendly Ghosts can be believed-."

"They _can,_" Jeremy muttered.

"Liliana crossed over to the place vampires go when they die a long, long time ago," Damon finished.

Alaric nodded thoughtfully, understanding the other man's train of thought. "We basically have no clue what we're dealing with."

"We're throwing Elena to the wolves. Literally," Damon said, scowling darkly at the human doppelganger. She didn't flinch under the weight of his gaze, knowing his frustration wasn't directed at her, but _for_ her.

Watching what passed between Damon and Elena caused Elijah's dead heart to contract fractionally. While his humanity no longer functioned as a normal vampire's, like a switch that could be turned on and off, their interaction gave him pause. Perhaps if he had taken a different path – been less devoted to the brother he thought he knew – he, too, would have a memory of something beautiful to combat the black revenge that fueled him. That revenge was all that moved him now and was his reason to live.

Elijah's final conscious thought before succumbing to the white oak dagger Klaus had thrust into his chest, had been revenge. Revenge for lying about and keeping him from their family and for breaking his faith in the bond he'd thought was so important. Klaus's single-minded quest to end his curse had become Elijah's life – the reason he'd allowed the humanity within him to wither and die when he should have cherished it.

When he'd woken up to see Katherine hovering over him, he'd had a brief moment of euphoria in thinking she was Liliana. That euphoria had been immediately smothered by one thousand years of an existence that had stripped away everything but the burning desire to make his brother pay.

"We're throwing all of us to the wolves," Alaric clarified, pulling Elijah from his dark thoughts.

A new, uneasy tension filled the room.

Casting a pointed look at Damon, Katherine shrugged. "Like I said, how is this any different than before?"


	24. Infinite Possibilities

_AN: Firstly, thank you, Beta! You're amazering. Secondly, Elena's been getting a lot of flack - deservedly - for not coming out and telling Damon she's in love with him. Hopefully, this chapter…balances the scales a bit. ;p_

_Thanks so much for reading! Enjoy!_

Chapter Twenty-Four – Infinite Possibilities

Wrapping a section of Elena's long straight hair around the barrel of a curling iron, Katherine rebelled against the rising of her long dead conscience. Obnoxious and unwelcome, it was quickly becoming an infuriating counterpoint to her deeply ingrained self-preservation instinct. According to Stefan, Klaus would be arriving just after sunset which meant Elena had to be in the tomb before then. As the human girl sat before her vanity mirror and outlined her eyes with black liner, Katherine wrestled with the irritating self-consciousness being around her look-a-like gave her lately.

"Ow," Elena cried as Katherine yanked her hair free of the curling iron with unnecessary viciousness. Casting a dark look at her reflection in the mirror, she muttered. "You know you don't _have_to help me."

Katherine bit the inside of her cheek and said nothing, grabbing another two-inch section of hair and methodically wrapping it around the curling iron. _What __the __hell __am __I __doing __here? _she wondered, creating yet another perfect spiral. As she began working on another piece of hair, she realized the predicament that she now found herself in could be placed squarely at Damon's feet. Damon… and his stupid parting shot back in Alaric's apartment all those months ago.

_Enjoy eternity alone, Katherine. _

For five hundred years, she'd been running from Klaus, venturing down one avenue after another in an attempt to finally shake free of the menacing threat. She hadn't had time to think about eternity or what she would do with hers when she'd finally secured it. One comment from _Damon,_ of all people, and suddenly forever had become real, vast and empty. For the first time in half a millennium, she'd made a choice that went against her ingrained survival instinct – letting Stefan see her in Charleston – and now _Elena _was paying the price.

_Not that I care. _

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, surprising them both with the unexpected question. Elena lifted her gaze to Katherine's in the mirror, eyeing her suspiciously as she continued. "I mean, why are you risking your life? Is it for Stefan? Damon? I know it's not for me."

"That's true," Elena replied, putting the cap back on her eye liner and digging through her drawer for the mascara.

"Well?" Katherine prompted.

"Why do I have to be doing it for anybody?" Elena asked. "Can't I just be doing it because it's the right thing?"

"God, no wonder everybody trips all over themselves to save you," Katherine snorted, taking satisfaction in the way Elena winced as she twisted the curling iron and pulled the hair tightly. "You're such a fucking saint they probably all think they're going to get a one way ticket to heaven."

"I'm not a saint," Elena disagreed, carefully applying the mascara to her curled lashes. "I just want Klaus dead like everybody else."

"You're selflessness is really annoying," Katherine grumbled.

"You had the chance to be the bait," Elena reminded her. "Having second thoughts?"

Katherine bit back the snide retort on the tip of her tongue as she worked her way through the last section of hair to be curled. She wasn't having second thoughts because no Power on the planet was getting her down into that tomb again. _Let __them __think __I__'__m __a __selfish __bitch, _she decided. They already did anyway and it was a small price to pay if it saved her from having to relive the month she'd spent wasting away within the confines of those stone walls.

Scowling, she released the last section of hair. _Who__ever __heard __of __a __vampire __with __claustrophobia?_

"When Klaus arrives, don't let him touch you," Katherine said, avoiding the questioning look Elena's reflection gave her in the mirror. "I know the witch has some sort of spell to mask your pulse and everything, but it won't matter if he gets his hands on you."

Elena nodded. "Okay."

"Keep your mouth shut as much as you can," she continued, using hairspray to preserve the tight curls. "No matter what Klaus says, silence is always better. He likes to hear himself talk and you can use that time to find a way out. You're only going to have one chance so it better be a good one."

"Stefan's going to be there."

Katherine froze, her eyes widening with horror. "What?"

"Stefan has to follow Klaus into the tomb so he doesn't get suspicious," Elena explained, turning around to watch her as she backed toward the bed. When her legs hit the mattress, Katherine gratefully sank to the plush depths to hide the fact that her knees suddenly felt like jelly.

"Stefan's going to be in the tomb," she repeated. "After the shield goes up?"

Elena nodded, confirming Katherine's horrifying suspicion, and despair swept through her, leaving her utterly bereft. Her brain automatically leapt to the conclusion that he was doing it for Elena and that everything he'd said to her, everything they'd shared since Charleston had been a lie.

It was a short leap.

Katherine shook her head to clear the sudden fog as she realized Elena had continued to talk. "Did I what?"

"Did you really love them both?" Elena repeated, resting her chin on the back of the chair. With her hair curled and her makeup finished, they really did look identical. The only thing left was for Elena to change out of her high school senior uniform and into some of Katherine's clothes and the transformation would be complete. The vampire had played the human before, but this was the first time they'd traded the other way and staring at her less jaded twin was disconcerting.

Shaking her head, Katherine tried to focus on the other girl's words. "Did I what?"

"After you gave Damon the cure," Elena said, dropping her gaze to the carpet. "You told me it was okay to love them both. That you had. Was that the truth or just another lie to get under my skin?"

"The truth," Katherine mused as she leaned back on her hands. "Humans are always so concerned about the truth. As if it even exists."

"Now you're just stalling," Elena said, rising from the chair and making her way to the pile of clothes lying near the head of the bed.

"Fine. Yes, I loved them both," Katherine confessed, rolling her eyes in irritation. "But not the same. You can't be in love with two people at once. There's always one you want more."

She expected Elena to demand to know which Salvatore brother she'd loved more, but the human girl simply nodded and began getting dressed. Slipping on the black jeans and dark purple tank top, she shook out her hair. Already the curls had loosened, falling in soft waves around her shoulders as she picked through the assortment of lapis lazuli jewelry.

"Just wear them all," Katherine snapped, suddenly impatient and eager to get the hell out of the Gilbert house. Being surrounded by Elena's life was starting to make her itch. Glancing out the window, she noted the lengthening shadows as the sun crept closer to the horizon. "Time to get you to the tomb."

Elena draped the collection of chains and precious stones over her neck before sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling on a pair of black, knee high, stiletto boots. Slowly, she slid her arms into the sleeves of her own leather jacket, absently fiddling with the zipper as she took a deep breath.

Katherine hovered in the doorway, waiting impatiently. "Are you coming?"

Elena flicked a glance her way before glancing around her room. "Katherine…"

"_What_?"

"Why did you decide to become a vampire?" Elena asked, unabashedly curious. "You're the only one I've ever met who actually did it to herself."

Katherine raised a brow. "Pretty sure your mother sought out vampirism with more enthusiasm than I did."

"Yeah, but you actually manipulated your own turning," she pressed, rising to her feet. Bracing her hands on her hips, she shifted her weight to her right leg in a way that _really _made the vampire feel like she was staring into a full length mirror. "Why did you do it?"

"I didn't want to die," Katherine said, shrugging as she openly studied the other girl. "I hope you're not looking for something deeper, because that's really it. I was seventeen, I was free of my incredibly staid family and…I didn't want to die in some stupid sacrifice."

"Have you ever regretted it?"

_Yes,_Katherine thought. After she found her family massacred, she'd regretted the choice almost as much as she'd hated Klaus for using it as an excuse to destroy everything she loved.

But that was a long time ago and Katerina Petrova was as dead as her family.

Lifting her chin, she shook her head. "No. Now can we go?"

Katherine rolled her eyes as she watched Elena work her way through some kind of internal struggle. "You're main reason for becoming a vampire was because you didn't want to die?"

"Of course," Katherine replied, looking at her incredulously.

Elena took a breath as her gaze drifted to hers. "I don't want to die, either," she admitted, the words spilling from her lips in a guilty rush, taking Katherine by surprise.

"Well, there's nothing wrong with…" she began, moved by a spark of sympathy to reassure her that wanting to live was nothing to feel bad about, when understanding dawned. Elena looked at her with hopeful expectance as Katherine's eyes went wide. Shaking her head, she declared unequivocally. "No."

"Katherine, please-."

"I thought you were all about dying for the cause," Katherine countered, closing the distance between them to stand nose to nose with her double. "I heard you threw a fit when Damon forced your hand before the sacrifice and now you're _asking _to become a vampire."

"I'm not asking…" Elena said, blowing out a frustrated breath. "Look, I was willing to die to protect the people I love and I lost Jenna and John anyway. I don't want Jeremy to have to bury the last of his family. Being a vampire is better than being dead."

"And I suppose it has nothing to do with the fact that you happen to be in love with one of them, right?" Katherine replied, raising a brow. Despite her suspicions and the plethora of taunts she'd used to convince Stefan that Elena had moved on, she wasn't actually sure which brother the human girl wanted. "I won't do it."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want you around for eternity," she retorted, turning on her heel and heading toward the door. "And besides, Damon would try to kill me and then I'd have to kill him and then Stefan would hate me and you're just not worth the trouble."

Tears flooded Elena's eyes as she blinked rapidly at the ceiling. "Thanks so much."

Elena's willingness to face that which she feared moved Katherine despite her best intentions. Blowing out a frustrated breath, she shoved her sympathy and shame to the back of her mind. They were all about to go up against an Original – the most menacing, unpredictable and powerful one she'd ever met. Now was not the time for sentimentality or hand holding. If Elena wanted to flirt with vampirism, she could ask Damon or Caroline. Whirling around, Katherine braced her hands on the doorframe and demanded. "Can we go now?"

* * *

><p>Katherine escorted Elena as far as the tomb entrance, leaving her to find her way through the darkened passageway that led to the stairs. Pressing a hand against the wall, she cursed the thin stiletto heels of her boots as they wobbled over the rocky ground. Voices echoed up from the main cavern and she heard Bonnie and Damon before she saw them.<p>

"We _have_to wait outside," the witch insisted, lighting the torches mounted on the walls. "Stefan's the only one Klaus won't suspect. If you're here, he'll know it's a trap."

"Have I told you how much I hate this plan?" Damon muttered, unpacking candles from a box of magical paraphernalia that Bonnie had brought for the spell. "Where are you going to store this crap, or do I have to lug it all back down for you?"

"I'm perfectly capable of…" Bonnie trailed off, spotting Elena descending the steps. Her best friend stared at her, as she ducked under the low overhang. Normally, she wasn't tall enough to risk running into the rocky ceiling, but the boots added four inches to her frame. Bonnie's gaze darted between Elena and Damon as she stammered. "K-Katherine? Where's-."

"It's Elena," Damon snapped at the witch, moving to the bottom of the stairs and taking her hand to help her down the last few steps. Her heel caught on some loose gravel at the bottom and she stumbled against him.

"Sorry," she murmured, her hand flattening against his chest as he wrapped an arm around her waist to steady her. Sheepishly, she looked down at her feet. "I'm better in these things on solid ground, I promise."

"Oh my god," Bonnie said, walking slowly toward her and looking her up and down. If she noticed anything unusual about the intimacy of her and Damon's embrace, she made no comment. Utterly amazed, her friend shook her head. "This is kind of creepy. You look…exactly like her."

"Good thing since the plan kind of hinges on it," Damon said, rolling his eyes.

Ignoring him, Bonnie said. "I've just got a few more things to do out here and then I can-."

"Take your time," he suggested, grabbing a couple of sturdy, already lit candles and handing one to Elena. "I'll take her back."

Bonnie shrugged and returned to her preparations as Damon guided Elena toward the entrance to the main tomb. The short tunnel was too narrow for them to walk side by side, so he took her hand and led the way. The sun had set, rendering the caves pitch black and the glow of their candles did little to penetrate the dark abyss.

Something in the air changed when they reached the heart of the tomb where twenty odd vampires had been trapped for over a century. Elena shivered, her eyes drifting to the ceiling where a mountain of stone rose above her and a spark of fear ran down her spine.

"You can still back out," Damon said, as if reading her mind. Making his way to the opposite side of the cavern, he placed the candle in a niche cut into the wall. His features were deadly serious as he walked back to her and added. "Stefan would be pissed, but Ric and I could vervain Katherine and drag her down here."

"And ruin all this hard work?" Elena quipped, gesturing to her appearance with a hand that trembled faintly. At Damon's scowl, she wrapped both hands around the candle and bit her lip. "I forgot you're not impressed by the charade."

"I never said that," he said, catching her eyes before taking the candle from her. He placed it in an ancient iron sconce near the tunnel, keeping his back to her as he explained. "I just hate that you're so damn good at it."

She waited for him to turn around, but he simply stood there, one hand braced against the wall as he glared at the ground. Looking around the tomb, she began to reconcile herself to the fact that if things went wrong, this is where she'd spend the final moments of her life. Fear and regret squeezed her heart as she drew a shallow breath.

She really didn't want to die.

"Damon-."

"I've got something for you," he interrupted, turning around abruptly and pulling something from his pocket. The vervain necklace flashed sliver in the glinting candlelight as he held it out toward her.

"I can't wear that," she said, even as she began to gather her hair so he could secure the clasp behind her neck. "Klaus will recognize it."

"You can't wear it as a necklace," he clarified, reaching for one of her hands. Pulling up the sleeve of her jacket, he began wrapping the chain around her wrist. "But this should work just as well."

Fastening the clasp, Damon tugged her sleeve back down, hiding the large pendant beneath a layer of leather. Elena felt the solid, reassuring weight of it against her skin as she curled her fingers around his hand. "Thank you."

Damon nodded, candlelight dancing in his somber eyes. "I know how important it is to you," he said, tucking her hair behind her ear and smoothing his thumb over her cheek. Closing her eyes, Elena leaned into the touch as her heart began to race. For once, it wasn't simply because he was touching her. The reality of what she was about to do was threatening to overwhelm her as well.

"You don't," she replied, keeping her eyes closed as she revealed just one of the many truths she'd yet to share with him. Although she'd said that they would talk after Klaus had been defeated, she couldn't stop the confession once it started spilling from her lips. "Not really."

"I don't?"

"You think it's because of Stefan," she said, opening her eyes to find him gazing at her, bemused. She reached for him with her other hand, curling her fingers around the open collar of his shirt. "It was once, but… you've given it back to me as many times as he ever did and I put it on the other day because it's like…it's like your ring. Katherine gave it to you, right?"

He nodded silently as she rubbed the ornate ring with her thumb. "But you still wear it, even though you don't…you don't love her anymore."

"I kind of have to," he reminded her.

"Bonnie could spell you another ring like she did for Caroline," Elena pointed out, struggling to make him understand what she could barely put into words. Shifting her grip on his hand, she brought it up between them and held it over her heart. "But this one…it's _you. _It's a part of who you are. I can be safe from compulsion without the necklace. I could put vervain in my coffee every day, wash my clothes with it, mix it in with my shampoo, but that necklace is _me. _It's…my constant. It's how I feel…safe."

"I get it," he promised, continuing to drag his thumb across her skin in slow, hypnotizing circles.

_You __make __me __feel __safe, _she added silently, afraid if she spoke she'd burst into tears or something equally embarrassing. She'd volunteered for this job and suddenly she wasn't certain if she had the courage to pull it off. Her heart was beating so loudly she couldn't think, but she needed to do whatever it took to make him stay with her just a few moments longer.

Her gaze drifted briefly to his mouth where a smile played at its corners, but his eyes remained guarded. The knowledge that he was holding something back – that he was _always _holding something back – caused her stomach to twist into painful knots. Damon wore his heart on his sleeve, but Elena had always known there was so much more buried beneath a century's worth of self-preservation. Their last kiss in the study had given her a glimpse of what it could be like between them when all the walls came down and she wanted that now.

Forget waiting for the right time – if these were her last moments with him, she was going to make them count.

"I know we agreed to talk after we took care of Klaus, but I really think…" Elena said, licking her suddenly dry lips. She wondered if he noticed the way her cheek burned beneath the hand that still caressed her face as she fought for each and every word on her way to telling him she was in love with him. "I mean, I really want to tell you…that I-."

Damon pressed his thumb to her lips, effectively silencing her seconds before he replaced it with his mouth, banishing what she'd been ready to say from her mind. Elena's eyes fluttered closed as she reveled in the sensation of his lips sweeping across hers. Tugging his hand from her grasp, he slipped an arm around her waist and brought her closer. She kissed him back, opening her mouth to taste him fully as the hand that had been cradling her face delved into her hair. Curling his fingers into a fist around the thick locks, he pulled her head back for better access.

Elena's arms found their way around Damon's shoulders, her fingers tangling at the nape of his neck and holding him close. Unlike their previous kisses, this one wasn't a prelude to something more, it was the act itself and she savored every detail. His kiss consumed her, liquefying her from the inside and making her grateful for the possessive arm around her waist that would never let her fall. _This __is __my __future, _she thought, realizing how right it felt. The first time she'd met Damon in the Salvatore house, and he'd studied her with those ridiculously beautiful eyes, a part of her had recognized their inevitability.

_This could be my forever. _

The sudden thought left her momentarily paralyzed, but like everything else she'd discovered about her feelings for Damon, she felt like the idea had been in her head all along. The notion of forever was thrown around in poems and songs with nauseating frequency, but with Damon, 'forever' was more than just an abstract concept, it was a promise. A reality of what she could have if she had the courage to follow through on what she'd only hinted at to Katherine.

_Forever with Damon…_

A feeling of intense loss swept through her as they parted and Elena kept her eyes tightly shut. Everything, her mind, her heart, her body, felt raw and vulnerable, like she might shatter into a million pieces if she so much as breathed. Damon continued to hold her, resting his forehead against hers as he ran his fingers through her hair and ruined Katherine's hard work.

_What __would __he __say, _she wondered, _if __I __asked __him __to __help __me __turn?_

Vivid memories of the morning of the sacrifice flashed through her mind. Only a few months had passed, but it felt like someone else's life, some other girl who'd balked in horror at the idea of becoming a vampire. Cringing at the images of Stefan hurling Damon across the room, of her own feelings of betrayal and the way she'd been unable to forgive him, she knew she couldn't ask Damon to do this for her.

Finally, he took a deep breath and kissed her forehead before murmuring. "You know you're not supposed to make any big emotional confessions if you want to survive a horror movie, right?"

Elena opened her eyes, frowning at him in confusion for a moment before she realized what he was talking about. Despite the gravity of what was to come, a smile curved her lips. "I thought the virgin wasn't supposed to have sex."

Raising a brow, Damon deadpanned. "Then we're all gonna die." Dissolving into semi-hysterical giggles, Elena rested her forehead against his shoulder and fought with everything she had to keep the laughter from turning to tears. His lips brushed her ear as he murmured. "Tell me when it's all over."

Extricating himself from her embrace before she could stop him, Damon left her standing in the middle of the tomb, mute and aching over the sudden loss. Her hand made its way to her lips and her vision focused just as he was disappearing from sight at the other end of the tunnel.

Bonnie, however, was right there, staring at her in open-mouthed shock. Elena didn't have time to worry about what her friend had no doubt witnessed. The haze in her brain had lifted, and she knew with absolute certainty that she was willing to do anything to survive the night.

_Anything at all._

"Bonnie," she exclaimed, taking a few uncertain steps toward the mouth of the tunnel. Shaking off her stunned paralysis, the witch made her way down the narrow corridor, eyeing her friend suspiciously. Elena grabbed her arm, speaking anxiously. "Bonnie, I need you to go get Caroline."

"She's showing the boys how to-."

"I know what she's doing, but I need her," Elena insisted. "Please, go get her for me."

"Okay," she agreed, turning around and making her way back down the tunnel.

"Hurry," Elena urged as she disappeared. Pacing the small, shadowy space, she tried not to hyperventilate as she attempted to guess how much time she had before Klaus arrived. An hour, maybe two if she was lucky, but plenty of time for Caroline to get down to the tomb, give Elena her blood and make it out of there to prepare for whatever back up the Original brought along for the ride.

"I'm not dying tonight," she muttered aloud to the silent cavern. She still wasn't sure she wanted to actually _be_ a vampire, but the nebulous future she'd imagined where she lived a normal life with kids and a husband to grow old with had faded into obscurity. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd thought about graduation or college. As the Petrova doppelganger, her future wasn't even guaranteed.

Standing in the tomb, waiting for Caroline, Elena realized that the most she could hope for was another tomorrow.

Whether human or vampire, she wanted to spend tomorrow with Damon.

* * *

><p>Alaric wasn't a gambling man. It was one vice he'd managed to avoid since losing Isobel and falling headlong into the supernatural world. Standing in a clearing about one hundred yards from the entrance to the tomb as he prepared to do battle against vampires, werewolves or hybrids, however, he couldn't help judging their odds of success. Glancing at Tyler, Caroline and Jeremy caused him to sigh.<p>

They weren't good.

Until a few months ago, he hadn't even considered the possibility of werewolves – let alone hybrids – and the weapons he'd amassed reflected that narrow-minded thinking. Crossing his arms, he surveyed the vast assortment of stakes, crossbows, modified brass knuckles and vervain grenades spread across the open tailgate of his SUV. He'd managed to scrounge up a few silver daggers, some wolfsbane and an admittedly badass silver machete, but aside from ripping out the heart, he had no idea how to take down a hybrid. Absently, he smoothed his thumb over the underside of the eternity ring, offering a silent thank you to Isobel. She may have been a self-centered bitch, but at least some part of her cared.

"How are we doing?" Damon asked, appearing out of nowhere. Only the fact that Alaric had spent the better part of a year on friendly terms with vampires kept him from jumping out of his skin. Picking up a silver dagger, Damon twirled it like a drum stick and feigned a stab at his heart. "Ready to take on Klaus's band of merry wolves?"

An indelicate snort sounded from behind them and to Alaric's left as Katherine materialized from the shadows. Leaning against a tree, she looked toward Caroline, Tyler and Jeremy before shaking her head. "You're all gonna die."

"Thank you, Katherine," Alaric sighed, no longer intimidated by the vampire. Maybe his ring gave him a false sense of security, but after Elijah and Klaus, Katherine didn't seem all that threatening. "We all appreciate your vote of confidence."

"What are you even doing here?" Damon asked, tossing the dagger back into the cache of weapons and sliding a long, thin wooden stake from the pile. With his back to Katherine, he slipped it up the long sleeve of his t-shirt and made his way to her side. "If you're so sure we're going to die, why don't you just bail? Nobody would miss you."

"I love a good massacre," she replied, standing her ground as Damon approached. Alaric turned around, leaning against the tailgate warily. _Damon __wasn__'__t __really __going __to__…_

Faster than his eye could process, the vampire flicked his wrist and the stake was suddenly in his hand, pressed against Katherine's flesh right above her heart. Her eyes widened, but she made no other sign of surprise.

"Klaus wants you dead," Damon said, putting enough weight behind the stake to pierce the skin. A thin trickle of blood ran down her chest, disappearing beneath the low cut neckline of her black shirt. "I could save him the trouble."

"I dare you to try," Katherine retorted, narrowing her eyes as she uncrossed her arms and curled her fingers into the front of Damon's shirt to pull him closer. The stake sank deeper into her chest, but she gave no indication that she even noticed.

"You don't want to dare me, Katherine," he warned, leaning against her. Alaric briefly wondered if he'd lost his mind until he noticed the older vampire's disadvantage. The ground rose on an incline and Damon was standing above her, making it nearly impossible for Katherine to get the leverage she still needed to throw him off.

"You really think _now _is the best time to weaken our numbers?" the vampire hunter pointed out quietly, remaining what he considered a safe distance away. Caught in a staring match with Katherine, Damon gave no indication that he'd heard the other man, but after a few more tense moments, he took a step back.

"You're assuming she's on our side," Damon muttered, stalking back to the SUV as Tyler, Jeremy and Caroline joined them. Slipping easily into teacher mode, Alaric stood back while his 'students' examined their supplies. Katherine's sudden presence at his side surprised him.

"What?" she demanded, raising a brow and wiping the trail of blood from her skin.

"I thought you said this was going to be a massacre?"

"It is," the vampire shrugged. "But that doesn't mean I don't want to piss off Klaus and take out some of his pets."

_I __will __never __understand __vampires, _Alaric thought, clearing his throat to get the attention of his 'class'. "Alright, as you can see I've got a lot more ammo against vampires than werewolves, so don't lose the silver stuff. Caroline and Katherine are the only ones who can actually rip the hearts out, so the rest of us will have to settle for slowing them down and fending them off until they can do their thing."

"What about you?" Jeremy asked, looking at Damon as he slipped his arm through a leather cuff with spring loaded stakes. "What's your role in all this?"

"Keeping your sister alive," Damon replied dryly.

"Our only job – aside from _not_dying – is keeping the hybrids away from the tomb," Alaric said, explaining for the hundredth time what they already knew. Keeping track of the plan made him feel useful even though he wasn't positive that Katherine was wrong in her assessment of their success. "If Klaus sees us fighting off his entourage, he'll _know _it's a trap."

"I thought he already knew," Caroline said, sizing up the silver machete that Alaric had spent a small fortune acquiring. "I mean, isn't that why he's sending back up in the first place? Because he thinks Stefan's lying to him?"

"We've got to keep him wondering until they get into the tomb and Bonnie can cast the spell," Jeremy reminded her.

"What's this?" Tyler asked, holding up a cylinder filled with a yellowish liquid. The casing was clear, but a pin held the top in place.

"Wolfsbane grenade," Damon smirked as Tyler hastily returned the small device back to the trunk of the car. The vampire nodded at Alaric. "Nice work."

"I do what I can," he shrugged as everybody turned to him, expectant looks on their faces. Holding up his hands, he added. "That's all I've got. Try not to get dead, okay?"

"Wow. Really? You're a regular Henry the Fifth," Katherine rolled her eyes, sidling up beside Jeremy to pick through the weapons. Alaric turned around, scanning the trees for movement. The sun had set and as the shadows thickened, he felt like they were being watched by a hundred pairs of eyes. The feeling was terrifying…and exhilarating. He may have become a hunter out of a sense of vengeance and necessity, but he couldn't deny there was a certain thrill attached to it as well.

"Caroline," Bonnie's voice carried through the trees as she ran across the uneven ground. Damon had been lounging against the SUV, but he snapped to attention upon seeing the witch.

"Where's Elena?" he demanded as soon as the witch reached the group.

"In the tomb," she replied, casting him an annoyed look.

"You _left _her in there?" he asked, incredulous.

"Relax, Damon, she's eighteen, not eight," Bonnie rolled her eyes, shouldering through the group to grab Caroline's arm. "She wants to talk to you."

"What about?" Caroline asked, strapping a knife holster around her upper thigh. Sheathing a silver dagger in the leather casing, she grinned at Tyler. "Badass, right?"

"Come on, Buffy," Bonnie shook her head, unable to fight her mirroring smile. "We don't have a lot of time."

Setting off for the tomb, Damon stared after them until long after they'd disappeared into the shadows. Alaric noted the grim set of his jaw as he turned back around and went to Katherine's side. Wrapping his hand around her upper arm, he said quietly. "We need to talk."

"Are you going to try to kill me again?" she asked, examining a vervain tipped mace. Glancing at him, she read something in his humorless expression that wiped the snide grin from her face. She nodded, tossing the weapon in the trunk and allowing him to lead her a few yards away into the shelter of a stand of trees growing close together.

Alaric watched them for a few moments before joining Tyler and Jeremy at the weapons cache. Absently, he picked up his favorite crossbow and loaded it with wolfsbane coated darts.

"So, what do we do now?" Jeremy asked, securing a silver knife in an ankle holster around his leg and covering it with his jeans.

Alaric glanced at the two men standing beside him and shrugged. "We wait."


	25. Die Me, Dichotomy

_AN: Somewhere between chapter one and chapter twenty-five, this fic morphed from a Delena fic to a full on ensemble fic. Thank the fic gods I've got an awesome beta who can help me keep track of everything. ;p _

_Thank you so much for reading. Your perserverance in sticking with me will totally be rewarded as all the little threads start to come together. Enjoy!_

Chapter Twenty-Five – Die Me, Dichotomy

Stefan waited for Klaus on the outskirts of town, regretting his decision to abandon human blood on the cusp of such a monumental undertaking. He and Caroline had gone hunting that afternoon, sating his physical needs, but the bloodlust was still upon him, wreaking havoc on his temper and his control. Jamming his trembling hands into his pockets, he fervently wished Katherine was with him – or even Damon. Despite his unpredictability and rash decision making, his brother handled the absurd far better than he.

Deliberately taking on a hybrid Original hell-bent on killing the woman he loved was pretty much the definition of absurd.

_The woman he loved… _

Startled, Stefan rolled the notion of still loving Katherine over in his mind. The animal blood hadn't altered his feelings for her and that fact alone helped him to find a place of calm amidst the whirlwind of withdrawal. Closing his eyes, he reached into the depths of his psyche, searching for the humanity switch that was his last line of defense. His memories of Elena were there, scratching at the wall, but they were different than before – a dull ache, rather than a raging pain. When Klaus was vanquished, he'd flip that switch and permit himself to _feel _everything that he'd buried. That would be the ultimate test of his feelings and give him a hint as to what his future held – eternity with the vampire who'd turned him or misery without the human he loved.

Because he knew he'd lost Elena. For good.

Pacing the side of the road near the trail to the tomb, Stefan considered that conclusion with detachment. He'd always known that Damon and Elena's relationship went deeper than either one of them had been willing to admit. As much as his brother liked to throw around the innuendo, Stefan knew that Damon hated the fact that history was essentially repeating itself. If he could have carved a hole in his chest and dug out the part of him that had fallen in love with Elena, he would have.

Stefan also knew that Elena had tried, that she'd fought bitterly against anything developing between her and Damon. She hadn't wanted to be Katherine and Stefan had taken comfort in that assertion, allowing himself to become willfully blind to what was happening right before his eyes.

"_You hate me, huh? That sounds like the beginning of a love story, Stefan. Not the end of one." _

Katherine's words had been about them, but they just as easily could have been for Damon and Elena. Grimacing slightly, he recalled the afternoon, shortly after Damon had snapped Jeremy's neck, that Elena had kissed him in front of his brother. At the time, he'd told himself that it had only started out as a huge 'fuck you' to Damon, that by the end it had been about them and nobody else. Stefan wasn't sure when his relationship with Elena had become more about proving something to Damon than about the love between them, but the seeds had been planted that day.

Taking a deep breath, Stefan watched the sun sink beneath the horizon and buried that train of thought. Thinking about Elena and Damon didn't bother him the way it might tomorrow, after he'd flipped the humanity switch, but it was still a distraction that he couldn't afford to indulge in.

As the last of the sun's light was fading and the stars began to appear in the heavens, a familiar, black SUV drove onto the shoulder and rolled to a stop mere feet from Stefan. Peering through the windshield, he recognized one of the guards from the hotel in Savannah as the passenger door opened and Klaus stepped out.

"Stefan, my friend. So good to see you," Klaus said, greeting him with a predatory smile. Leaving the door open, he took a few steps forward, reducing the distance between them by half. "I have to admit, I was not at all certain you would be here."

"Why is that?" Stefan asked as he tried to discern the extent of Klaus's displeasure over the way he'd disappeared.

"Well, you did run away from Savannah without a word," Klaus said, rubbing his chin in consideration. "If I were the suspicious type, I would think you were trying to renege on our deal."

"I told you over the phone, I had to make Katherine think she'd broken your hold over me," Stefan reminded him, sticking to the script as he was in no state to play mind games.

"Yes, that is right. And I am to judge from your summons that you have succeeded," Klaus mused, the maddening smile widening fractionally. Glancing around, he shrugged. "Very well, where is she?"

"Not far. She's chained up in a tomb beneath an old church," Stefan said, thinking of Elena and the plan and hoping they were running on schedule. "I used vervain, but it's probably worn off by now."

"Then let us be on your way," Klaus said, turning back to the vehicle and speaking to someone inside. "Mia, my dear, come on out. I hope you brought comfortable shoes because it seems Stefan intends for us to walk."

Shifting his weight, Stefan curled his hands into fists in an attempt to contain his anxiety. His resolve was tested a moment later as the Original gallantly assisted a very human, and very nervous, redhead from the backseat. The blood pumping through her veins made his mouth water even from six feet away.

Jesus, this was going to be harder than he thought.

Tipping his chin toward the woman, he turned toward the trail and asked. "Who's she?"

"Stefan, I would like to introduce you to Mia, my witch," Klaus explained, following Stefan as they set off into the woods. "She will be conducting a small spell for me this evening…ridding me of two annoying women who have been plaguing my life for far too long."

"Two women?" Stefan repeated, digging for information in an effort to ignore the scent of Mia's blood. "What two women?"

"That is not for you to worry about, Stefan."

"Indulge me," he shrugged, following the winding path through the darkening shadows. "Trapping Katherine wasn't easy. I figure I at least deserve to know why I risked my eternal existence."

"I suppose," Klaus agreed, pausing for a moment as he collected his thoughts. "The short version is I have been haunted for nearly one thousand years by the ghost of a woman I killed. Mia is going to channel this woman's spirit into Katherine and then banish them both to the other side where I will not have to deal with either of them again."

"You're killing Katherine because you're being haunted?" Stefan demanded, stopping abruptly and whirling around. Blood surged around his eyes as a spike of anger momentarily overrode his control. Doppelganger or not, given the lengths Katherine was willing to go to secure her own survival, he wasn't surprised that she'd found her way to an Original's hitlist. To be targeted for death for something as mundane as a haunting, however, seemed petty and a complete waste of life.

Luckily for him, Mia chose that moment to trip over a tree root growing across the path, demanding Klaus's full attention as he kept her on her feet. By the time the Original looked up, Stefan's features were a perfect mask of indifference.

Klaus narrowed his eyes. "Do you have a problem with that?"

Stefan swallowed, willing his voice to remain steady as he lied through his teeth. "No. No problem at all."

* * *

><p>Caroline's senses were on such high alert as she and Bonnie made their way to the tomb that she had to make a conscious effort to walk at a human pace and not leave her friend in the dust. She wasn't exactly excited to face down a pack of hybrids, but after days of endless talking and planning and second guessing and then <em>more<em> planning, she was ready to actually _do _something.

Plus, she hadn't forgotten the thrill of ripping Adrian's heart out of his chest. _Maybe __I__'__m __turning __into __Damon, _she mused.

Arriving at the entrance to the tomb, Bonnie suddenly reached out and grabbed Caroline's arm. Her eyes were narrowed and her mouth set in a grim line as she demanded. "Did you know?"

"Did I know…what?" Caroline asked, raising her brow.

"That Elena is cheating on Stefan with Damon," Bonnie said, her brown eyes flashing in the moonlight. Caroline's stomach flipped.

"W-what makes you say that?" she asked lamely as she weighed her options and tried to decide if she should lie to one best friend to protect the other.

"I saw them," Bonnie replied, a line appearing between her brows. Releasing Caroline's arm, she glanced around and stepped closer. "Making out in the tomb, just like, ten minutes ago."

"Huh," Caroline replied, her voice unnaturally bright.

"Huh?" Bonnie repeated, staring at her in disbelief. "That's all you have to say? _Huh?_"

Twisting her fingers together, Caroline fumbled for a plausible excuse. "Well, maybe he was just wishing her luck."

Bonnie crossed her arms and raised a brow. "With his _tongue_?"

"You know Damon…" she said with a strained smile, trying to chuckle.

"Caroline!"

"Oh, alright," Caroline replied, barely resisting the urge to stomp her foot in frustration. "Fine, yes, I knew."

"She told you?" Bonnie asked in a defeated voice, her arms dropping to her sides.

"No, I…I kind of forced it out of her," Caroline admitted, hating the look of disappointment on Bonnie's face. "And it's not really cheating when you've broken up with the guy, right?"

Instantly, she realized that was the wrong thing to say. Tears flooded Bonnie's eyes as she cried. "Stefan and Elena broke up? When?"

"Officially, two days ago," Caroline confessed, earning her another gasp of hurt and disbelief from the witch. "But I think it was probably over when Stefan threw her into a wall."

Stunned, Bonnie gaped at Caroline, her mouth working to form words for several seconds before anything actually came out. "Wh-why didn't anyone tell me?"

"Well…when would it have been a good time?" Caroline asked, searching for the words to assure Bonnie that Elena's secrecy hadn't been personal, just…circumstance. The _circumstance _being that their lives sucked and girl talk was constantly being put on the back burner in favor of _staying __alive _talk. "Between which 'Oh my god, we're all gonna die' meeting would it have made sense for Elena to pull you aside and tell you she'd swapped Salvatores?"

"I don't…that's not the point," Bonnie argued weakly. "I just…I can't believe that…_Damon? _Really?"

"That face you're making right now _might_also be part of the reason Elena wasn't exactly forthcoming with all of this," Caroline said, not unkindly. "I know you don't like Damon and really, he hasn't given any of us a good reason to, but Elena loves him and he would _die_for her, so what more can you really want for your best friend, right?"

Under the pale moonlight, Bonnie turned a little green as she murmured. "So, _that__'__s _why."

"What?"

Blinking, she stared at Caroline and offered her small shrug. "Um, nothing. Y-you're right, I'm…sorry. I was just…really surprised. This is so not the time to be worrying about it anyway. Elena wants to talk to you and we need to hurry."

Bonnie, are you sure?" Caroline said, gripping the witch's shoulder.

"Yes, I'm sure," she nodded, smiling in a way that Caroline didn't quite believe, but couldn't really argue with. Bonnie took Caroline's hand off her shoulder and clung to it as she slipped through the opening to the tomb. "Let's go."

* * *

><p>Katherine allowed Damon to guide her a full twenty yards away from the clearing before planting her stiletto heels into the ground and demanding some answers.<p>

"Alright, Damon," she announced, snatching her arm out of his grasp. "This is far enough. What do you want?"

Turning to face her, Damon glanced over her shoulder at the SUV where Alaric was still looking over his assorted weapons. Keeping his voice low, he said. "When this is over, you need to leave town."

Raising a brow, Katherine scoffed. "I need to _what_?"

"Leave. Town," he repeated, wishing that for once she'd just do as he asked. He wasn't a hero or a saint and if he was going to sacrifice his life in just a few hours he wanted to make damn sure it meant something. "I want you to take Stefan and get the hell out of Mystic Falls."

Her smiled slowly and he cursed softly, knowing he'd made a mistake bringing up his brother. "What's the problem, Damon? Can't handle the competition?"

"There is no competition-."

"Really? You're that confident that you've got Elena under your sway?" Katherine mused, taking a step toward him. Looking up at him coquettishly from beneath her lashes, she murmured. "I'm impressed, but what's in it for me?"

"You get Stefan away from Elena," Damon replied, stating what he considered the obvious. "Or are _you _that confident that you've got my brother wrapped around your finger again?"

Katherine's grin faded as she studied him. "You never take the easy way. Stealing Stefan's girl right out from under him is more your style, so what's this really about?"

"For once, could you just do what I'm asking?" he questioned, sighing in frustration. Katherine merely held his gaze as the sounds of the night rose in a crescendo around them. "Don't you think we've done enough damage here? You, me, Stefan…We've practically destroyed this town a dozen times over."

"Since when do you give a damn about Mystic Falls?"

"I don't," Damon admitted, abandoning the lies since she saw right through them. "But I care about Elena. I love her and because of us, she's lost…so much. And I…I just want her to be happy."

"With _you_, I suppose," Katherine said, rolling her eyes.

Damon looked down at his hands, disappointment and loss coursing through him and nearly cutting him in half. "Not with me. That's the point. Not with me, not with Stefan. Let Elena have her life back. Let her…be human and _normal_ with a husband and kids and…god, I don't know, a _dog_… all that stuff that I don't even understand anymore and could never give her."

"She'll die," Katherine said, reminding him of the most agonizing truth of watching humanity from the outside. She stared at him with wide eyes and zero agenda, seeking to understand. "She'll grow old, she'll die and you'll have to watch it."

He smirked even though the act physically pained him. "No, I won't."

"Like you'd be able to stay away," Katherine scoffed, but as she took in his expression, the pain behind his eyes that he couldn't hide, she narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "Wait…what are you planning, Damon?"

Damon grinned, taking a small satisfaction in being the one to hold the cards for once. The knowledge that he might know something Katherine didn't would eat away at her until she would agree to practically anything to know the truth. "Something I should have done a long time ago."

"Tell me," she demanded, closing the distance between them and grabbing his shirt.

Damon refused to give an inch as he looked over her head and shrugged. "Promise me."

Katherine cursed and wrestled with her overwhelming curiosity for all of five seconds before caving. "Fine. I'll get Stefan out of Mystic Falls."

Damon briefly closed his eyes in relief. "Bonnie doesn't have the juice to weaken Klaus. The witches cut her off. She needs a sacrifice, so I volunteered."

"A sacrifice?" Katherine repeated. For a few moments, she stared at him dumbly and he had to fight the urge to laugh at her total incomprehension. As she floundered, he took solace in the fact that she'd never think to trade her life for another's. It was just one more glaring difference between her and Elena.

When understanding dawned – far too quickly for Damon's taste as he was enjoying her confusion – Katherine stared at him, aghast. "You volunteered to _die?_"

"Keeps Elena alive, keeps Klaus dead," Damon said, removing her hands from his shirt. They fell limply to her sides as he stepped around her and started to walk away. "It's a win all around."

"I don't believe you," she declared, raising her voice a fraction even though he was still within six feet of her. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw her shaking her head, her long hair catching the moonlight as it danced around her shoulders. Her eyes were wide and if he'd believed that she felt _anything _for him he would have sworn there were tears in them. "The Damon Salvatore I know would _never _do that."

He paused, various half formed thoughts and conclusions solidifying into place at her assertion. _The __Damon __Salvatore __she __knew__…_ He held her gaze as he stepped back in front of her, studying the face he knew as well as his own. When he'd first met Elena, he'd resented her for wearing the features and expressions of the woman he loved. Now, when he looked at Katherine, all he saw was the imitation. Andie had been right. Love really did change people.

He offered her a small, satisfied smile and shrugged. "Then you haven't been paying attention."

* * *

><p>From deep within her mind, Bonnie listened to the last words of her spell resonate within the innermost chamber of the tomb. The air in front of her was thick with Power as the glamour settled into Elena. Opening her eyes in the dim light, she took in her best friend's expectant gaze and forced a smile to her lips. "There. It's done."<p>

Elena turned to Caroline for confirmation that the spell had worked, leaving Bonnie to contemplate her imminent nervous breakdown. Elena loved Damon, Damon loved Elena and in about two hours Bonnie had to drive a stake through his heart and channel his life force so Elijah could kill Klaus. Despite the fact that Damon made her nervous and she didn't entirely trust him, she hadn't been thrilled by the prospect of killing him. Now, she was pretty sure she was going to lose her best friend because of it and her only alternative was to leave Klaus alive to massacre them all.

What the hell was she going to do?

"Wow, Bonnie…that's amazing," Caroline said, pulling the witch out of her head and back to the present. The blonde framed Elena's face on either side of her jaw and closed her eyes as she felt for a pulse.

"Thanks," she replied, giving them another strained smile. Gently, she pulled Caroline's hands away and added. "Just…don't let Klaus do that. I'm not sure how well it will hold up under his scrutiny."

Elena nodded, fiddling with the bracelet around her wrist. "Katherine said the same thing."

Bonnie raised a brow, murmuring. "For once we agree."

"Not that I'm in a hurry or anything, but what did you need me for?" Caroline asked, an easy smile on her lips that belied what they were about to face. Elena froze, dropping her hands to her side and glancing nervously between her friends.

"Well, I…I was hoping…," she stammered, pushing her hair off her face with both hands. She paused for a few moments before muttering. "God, why was this easier with _Katherine_?"

"What is it?" Caroline pressed. "We're your best friends. You don't have to be all nervous, what do you need?"

"You're blood," Elena said, sighing as the words left her mouth. More confidently she added. "I need…some of your blood."

Bonnie's stomach twisted with nausea as Caroline shot her a wide-eyed look before addressing Elena. "You want my blood…like…to…to turn into a-."

"Is this because of Damon?" Bonnie demanded, harsher than she intended as she grabbed Elena's upper arm.

"What? I…_no_," she said, shaking her head in vehement protestation. Bonnie raised a brow and even in the candlelight she saw Elena's cheeks turn red. "I-I just…look, I tried the whole sacrificing myself for the greater good and it didn't work. People still died and Klaus wasn't stopped. I don't _want _to be a vampire, I just don't want to leave Jeremy or you guys or…or Damon," she added in a whisper as tears filled her eyes. "I don't want to die."

Bonnie's heart broke as the injustice of it all weighed down on her. _Katherine _should be in the tomb, not Elena. For once her best friend didn't have a bullseye on her back and she'd ended up in the line of fire anyway.

"Did you ask Damon?" Caroline wondered, bracing her hands on her hips as she shifted nervously from foot to foot.

"No," Elena replied, shaking her head as she carefully wiped the tears away from her heavily made-up eyes. "Not after what happened before the sacrifice. He'd hate it and we'd fight about it, and then he'd end up saying no, so I'd have to ask you anyway. If everything goes according to plan, I'll be fine and he'll never even have to know. It's just a precaution."

"He'll never have to know," Bonnie repeated weakly, bringing a hand to her mouth as her stomach heaved. Caroline pursed her lips, hesitating, as Bonnie shook her head at Elena, eyes wide with something close to wonder. "You really love him, don't you?"

Elena looked at her levelly, replying without a hint of hesitation. "Yes, I do. And you know Damon, Bonnie. Both of you do," she added, touching Caroline's shoulder. "If I die on him, he won't handle it well."

"Yeah, but if I help you turn, he'll stake me," Caroline said, huffing in frustration.

"Caroline, please," Elena begged, her voice breaking from strain and desperation. "I haven't even had a chance to follow through on our deal and tell him how I really feel. I tried, but…he told me to tell him after this was all over. I don't want to lose that chance."

_Oh__god,_Bonnie bit her lip hard to keep from moaning aloud. This was all so very, very wrong. She held her breath for a long, agonizing moment as she tried to decide what she wanted Caroline to say. A 'yes' was unthinkable, an endorsement of yet another person in her life becoming one of the undead. A 'no' was simply cruel.

Both answers meant nothing anyway because Damon was going to die.

"Dammit," Caroline finally muttered, pushing up her sleeve. Bonnie watched in horrified fascination as the veins around her eyes flooded with blood and her fangs descended. Bringing her wrist to her lips, the vampire paused. "If you become a vampire you have to promise not to let Damon kill me."

"I promise," Elena replied, nodding enthusiastically and unable to prevent her blindingly relieved grin.

Caroline nodded, biting into her wrist and quickly offered it to Elena. Swallowing, Bonnie turned away. "I…need to go check on something," she muttered, leaving her friends to their gruesome exchange.

Stumbling down the corridor, she couldn't find her footing, bouncing off one wall, then the other as she made her way through the main cavern and up the steep staircase to the entrance. With a gasp, she tripped across the threshold, throwing out her hands to brace her fall as a pair of strong arms caught her before she could hit the ground.

"Elijah!" Bonnie said breathlessly, looking up at the stoic features of the Original.

Keeping a careful grip on her shoulders, he helped her to her feet. A frown creased his brow as he inquired. "Is everything alright?"

For a moment, Bonnie's mind was a complete blank as she stared at him. Then in a true testament to her looming mental collapse, she burst into hysterical laughter. Elijah's frown deepened. "Bonnie…"

"Everything's fine," she replied airily, waving a hand between them and nearly smacking him in the face. "In a few hours I'm going to kill Damon and my best friend is either going to end up dead or hate me – possibly both – but it's all good. It's _fine._"

"Ah…I think…perhaps…you should…start from the beginning," Elijah suggested uncertainly.

At some point, she'd started crying and she wiped away the tears hastily, regaining a semblance of her self-control. Taking a deep breath, she tried to give him the abridged version. "When I brought Jeremy back from the dead, the witches cut me off. They said I'd toyed with the balance of Nature one too many times. I thought to kill Klaus they'd be happy to help, but they won't even talk to me. Damon caught me begging to Emily and I stupidly told him about another option. Another sacrifice."

"Channeling the release of Power at death," Elijah nodded, his expression becoming even graver. "That's a daunting task."

"You've heard of the spell?" Bonnie said, surprised although she didn't know why. Elijah had probably heard of every spell _ever_. In one thousand years he'd probably _seen_every spell ever. "Damon offered himself. I didn't want to accept, but I didn't see another option and then I saw him kissing Elena and she was definitely kissing him back and now she's drinking Caroline's blood so she doesn't die _die_ tonight and even though she insists it's not because of Damon, I know it kind of is because I'm _not_blind. Sometimes I like to pretend I don't see what I see, but everybody does that, right? Especially when it's about your best friend being in love with an arrogant jackass."

Bonnie looked to Elijah expectantly as he closed his eyes and sighed. Grimacing, he shook his head slightly, as if to clear it, and opened his eyes. "Let me see if I understand correctly. Damon has offered himself up to be sacrificed in order for you to render Klaus vulnerable."

"Yes," Bonnie nodded, bracing her hands on her hips. "Because he's in love with Elena and doesn't want her to die."

"Right," he said, the furrow between his eyes appearing again as he concentrated. "Meanwhile, Elena has consumed Caroline's blood and is flirting with vampirism because she doesn't want to die tonight."

"Yes. And because she's in love with Damon," she added, feeling compelled to make sure the Original understood that fact…or maybe she was just trying to make herself understand.

"Can I assume that neither Damon nor Elena have actually spoken to each other about their plans?"

"I think that's a safe bet."

"Leaving you in the unenviable position of secret keeper," Elijah mused, walking a few paces away and staring up at the stars. Bonnie watched him, wiping away the last few tears that slipped through her lashes. She felt…better. The weight of responsibility was still heavy on her shoulders, but telling him had helped ease some of the burden.

"Thank you for listening," she said, twisting her fingers together as she took a step forward. "I don't normally freak out like that, but I just…thank you."

"It's quite alright," Elijah replied, offering her his profile. "My brother has forced you to make decisions you're far too young to fully comprehend."

Bonnie would have taken the comment as an insult from anybody else, but coming from a man who'd lived as long as Elijah had she could only see its inherent truth. As he stared silently at the sky, she tried to wrap her brain around the idea of living for a millennium – the chance to do everything, to never worry about making the wrong choice because there would always be another tomorrow. Elijah had been given the chance to see and do everything, to experience history as it happened and meet and mingle with humans from every era.

In all her life, Bonnie had never seen a lonelier soul.

His isolation surrounded him like a shroud, bringing tears to her eyes again as she watched him gaze at the stars. The bitter flipside of immortality was as obvious as the allure.

Movement in the distance caught her eye as Damon appeared from between the trees and her stomach twisted. Anxiety spread through her as she watched him approach. She imagined the moment when the stake entered his chest and the look of utter devastation on Elena's face. Bonnie didn't have to fully understand or agree with the fact that her best friend loved Damon, but she had to accept it.

"I don't think I can do this," she whispered, hoping Damon wasn't close enough to hear her confession.

Elijah turned, following her line of sight to the approaching vampire. Taking a deep breath, he nodded. "You shouldn't have to."

* * *

><p>Caroline made her way back to Alaric and the rest of the group at human speed, absently rubbing her wrist where Elena had taken her blood. The wound had healed, but a phantom pain radiated from the buried vein, reminding her of what she'd just helped orchestrate. By this time tomorrow, her best friend could be a vampire and she'd be responsible.<p>

She wasn't sure how she felt about that.

On the one hand, Caroline obviously didn't want to lose Elena and she had to agree – being a vampire was better than being dead. Her life was different, but it wasn't bad and her mother was even coming to terms with the fact that her daughter had become the monster she and the Town Council had hunted all their lives. She had a boyfriend who accepted her for what she was and close friends who would do anything for her. She'd never get old and never die – although the constant barrage of life threatening situations she'd been getting into since the beginning of her junior year was sorely testing that theory. She had all the time she needed to see the world or try every job imaginable until she figured out what she loved.

On the other hand, her diet kind of sucked and the constant bloodlust wasn't always easy to control. She wasn't like Stefan, thank god, but it was hard – especially when she was hungry – to sit in class surrounded by the tantalizing scent of blood and the visceral pounding of two dozen heartbeats and not want to go on a rampage and drain them all. Eventually, if she stayed in one place too long, people would start to wonder why she never aged. She'd outlive her friends, her family, her boyfriend and never have kids.

Caroline had arrived at the conclusion, however, that nobody's life was perfect and at the end of the day, she was just happy Katherine hadn't _really _killed her when she'd smothered her with that pillow.

Reaching the halfway point, Caroline paused. The moon had slid behind the clouds, banishing what little light had been able to penetrate the trees. A rustling to her left, at the top of a steep incline, caught her attention and made her aware of the fact that the forest had fallen unusually silent. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end as she realized the sun had set long ago. Klaus had met with Stefan by now and that meant his backup – if he'd brought any – wouldn't be far behind. Focusing all of her heightened senses, she held her breath and listened as she peered through the dense underbrush.

High atop the incline, she found what she was looking for as a strangely human pair of glowing yellow eyes locked onto hers.

"Oh shit," she breathed, breaking into a run as the hybrid leapt at her. His speed matched hers and he was behind her in seconds, growling and snarling in a human cadence that freaked her out more than the prospect of the damage his teeth could do.

Blindly, she ran through the woods, her mind racing for some sort of plan, some way she could work the situation she'd found herself in to her advantage. Tree branches slapped at her face, cutting at skin that immediately healed. She knew how to kill him and had no qualms about doing so, she just wasn't sure she could make it happen without literally losing her head.

Caroline was so concerned with making her plans and staying out of the hybrid's grasp that she didn't realize she'd veered from the path. Breaking through a dense thicket, she found herself at the top of a hill looking down on the clearing where the others waited. Opening her mouth to scream, her foot caught in a root and her steady pace faltered. It was the opening the hybrid had been waiting for.

He grabbed her from behind, robbing her of breath as their combined momentum sent them both tumbling down the hill. Caroline fought with everything she had to gain the advantage, clawing and scrapping with her hands and kicking with her feet, ever mindful of the beast's jaws and teeth.

Near the bottom of the hill, she finally managed to twist all the way around and face the hybrid. Locking eyes with him, she plunged her hand into his chest just as they tumbled to a stop a few yards from her shocked friends.

"Caroline!" Tyler cried, rushing toward her with Alaric and Jeremy close behind. Trying to catch her breath, she said nothing at first, allowing her boyfriend to pull the hybrid's dead weight off of her. He helped her to her feet, his warm hands touching her face and her throat as he searched for any hint of a wound. "Are you alright?"

Taking a deep breath, she nodded and looked around at her friends. Katherine had joined them, a look of mild concern etched into her features that shocked Caroline almost as much as the hybrid attack. She kicked the motionless body at her feet, staring at the gaping hole in his chest. Letting the heart she still clutched in her hand fall to the ground, she looked at her friends and announced. "They're here."


	26. We're So Screwed

_AN: I got a ton of new alerts and favorites from the last chapter, so thank you and welcome to the new readers! I've been remiss on my replies to your the last two chapters, but I'll catch up, I promise! I love reading your thoughts and can't wait to hear what you have to say about this chapter. A LOT is going happening. Enjoy!_

Chapter Twenty-Six – We're So Screwed

Alaric stared at Caroline as Tyler helped her to her feet. The dead hybrid body on the ground was proof that their worst fears were justified, but it still didn't seem real – not even as she dropped the bloody heart she'd ripped from its body to the ground.

"They're here," Caroline announced nudging the body with her foot before looking grimly at the others. Alaric's heart began to race within his chest as he scanned the clearing. With the moon behind the clouds, there was barely enough light to see five feet in front of him, let alone fifty yards to the top of the hill. Swallowing nervously, he went back to the SUV and picked up the machete, wrapping his fingers around the grip and swinging it a few times to test the weight.

Suddenly, the steady chirping of the crickets stopped as an unnatural stillness descended over the landscape.

"Everybody grab your weapon of choice and get ready," Alaric murmured as Tyler hooked a couple of wolfsbane grenades to his belt and Jeremy chose a crossbow and a handful of arrows. Addressing the younger man, Alaric cautioned. "Try and keep an eye on where those things end up. They aren't cheap."

Jeremy smirked and gave him a nod before turning around and peering into the gloom, ready to face their unseen enemy. Katherine and Caroline were standing a few feet away from the SUV, turning in circles as they used their enhanced vision to get a better look at the surrounding forest.

"See anything?" Tyler asked, arming himself with a dagger and joining Caroline.

"Nothing yet," she murmured, her brow creased as she concentrated on the tree line. For nearly a minute, the clearing was utterly silent as human, werewolf and vampire alike strained to catch the slightest hint of their enemy's approach.

"Maybe they're not here yet," Jeremy suggested, glancing at his companions. "Maybe the one Caroline killed was a look out or something."

"Maybe not," Katherine muttered, advancing a few steps toward the hill just as a group of snarling, half-turned hybrids charged out of the trees. Alaric, Jeremy and Tyler started forward, intent on meeting their enemy head on, but Katherine held out a hand, signaling for them to stop. Staring the beasts down, she said. "Make them come to you."

The hill was short, but the wait was agony as adrenaline surged through Alaric's veins. He looked from Tyler to Jeremy, wondering who he should back up. Tyler had the added agility and strength of his werewolf genes while Jeremy had his ring. Glancing back at the approaching hybrids, he tightened his grip on the machete as his palms began to sweat. Seven hybrids to five…back up wouldn't be an option.

In the span of seconds, the hybrids made it down the hill, charging at Caroline and Katherine first. The older vampire held her ground as she allowed the first hybrid to attack. The creature grabbed her shoulders, snarling and snapping its jaws at her neck. Katherine smiled grimly and a split second later, the hybrid dropped to the ground as she yanked his heart from his chest and tossed it carelessly aside.

"That's one," she announced, flicking her fingers to rid them of the blood and gore.

Katherine's quick victory went unnoticed as the hybrids continued their attack, undaunted by the quick death of their companion. One leapt at Caroline from ten feet away, sailing through the air and using its momentum to knock her off her feet. They rolled on the ground, in a tangle of limbs and snapping jaws, before Caroline plunged her hand into the creature's chest and removed the heart, bringing her body count up to two. Shoving the dead carcass aside, she climbed to her feet, just as Katherine flipped another hybrid to its back and thrust her hand into its chest.

"Two for two," Caroline quipped, giving the older vampire a conspiratorial wink just as a deafening explosion cut through the night. Tyler had taken out two more hybrids with one of the wolfsbane grenades. Writhing on the ground in agony, they were helpless as the blond vampire easily took them out one by one, adding two more hearts to her total.

Not to be outdone, Katherine raced to Jeremy's aide. Using the crossbow, he'd clipped one of the hybrids in the thigh, but the creature was still advancing, backing the human into a small stand of trees and effectively trapping him. Katherine's fangs descended as the adrenaline of the fight tapped into her vampiric nature. Grabbing the hybrid by the hair, she punched a hole all the way through his back and out his chest, grabbing the heart as she pulled her arm back through and letting it fall to the ground. The hybrid uttered a strangled cry, dropping to its knees before falling face first into the grass.

"Thanks," Jeremy said, staring at the creature before lifting his gaze to Katherine's, but the vampire was already gone.

Heeding Katherine's advice, Alaric gripped the machete tightly and waited for his adversary to come to him. The hybrid that approached had either been smarter to begin with or he'd picked up a few pointers from watching his counterparts die so swiftly because rather than attacking at top speed, this hybrid slowed a good six feet from Alaric. Circling him slowly, the hybrid glared at the machete as it flashed in the moonlight.

Alaric's pulse raced as adrenaline coursed through his veins, replacing any fear with the thrill of the hunt. Finally, the hybrid lunged, swiping at him with a hand that boasted sharp, piercing claws. Alaric swung – once, twice – the machete whistling harmlessly through the air on either side of the creature's body. Grinning, the hybrid had bared its teeth and lunged again while Alaric was slightly off balance with the force of his attempted blow. The deadly claws sliced through his sleeve, drawing blood. Uttering a strangled curse, he stumbled away, trying to ignore the stinging pain and heady scent of blood as it dripped from the long wound down his left arm.

Regrouping, he glanced at the clearing, noting that the rest of the hybrids were dead. Katherine and Caroline had already started toward him, but his hunter's pride demanded he take care of himself.

Attacking quickly, he aimed for the hybrid's limbs, connecting with the machete and slicing its thigh and torso. The creature howled in pain and fell to its knees as blood gushed from the wounds. Summoning all his strength, Alaric raised the machete and swung hard, aiming for the creature's neck. The blade hit its mark, slicing through skin and bone like butter as the hybrid's scream of pain and surprise was abruptly silenced. Blood poured from the severed veins and arteries as Alaric cleanly lopped off the creature's head. It hit the ground first, rolling a few feet away before the headless body quickly followed. He held the machete aloft, silently praying that the hybrid was dead.

"Damn," Jeremy murmured in admiration as he came to Alaric's side. Katherine approached the prone body warily, nudging the still form with her booted foot. "So I guess we've found another way to get rid of them, huh?"

"Apparently," Alaric muttered, gingerly checking the wound on his arm and wincing at the stinging pain.

"Is that all there is?" Tyler asked.

"Are you disappointed?" Katherine sneered, crouching beside the headless body and ripping out the heart. Smirking, she looked at Caroline. "Three for three."

"That doesn't count," the blonde vampire argued, clenching her blood-stained hands into fists. "He was already dead!"

"Can't be too careful," Katherine replied, tossing the useless organ aside and gracefully rising to her feet. The silence of the woods engulfed them as they scanned the trees, hardly daring to breathe. The normal sounds of the forest at night failed to return. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.

"Does this feel wrong to anybody else but me?" Jeremy asked, his quiet whisper shattering the stillness like a gunshot. Alaric shifted his weight, gripping the machete tightly as his unease grew.

"This was too easy," he said at last, squinting at the shadows as if it would make them give up their secrets. As if in agreement with Alaric's assessment that their victory had been too easy, the forest creatures remained silent as the seconds stretched into minutes,

"Here comes your challenge, Ric," Katherine announced a few minutes later, pointing up the hill seconds before the next wave appeared. Caroline braced for the attack while Tyler and Jeremy raced back to the SUV, restocking their weapons cache just as a dozen or more hybrids broke the tree line at the top of the hill. Klaus's minions advanced on their prey, spilling down the incline in a waterfall of snarling and snapping jaws.

Once the number of approaching hybrids broke twenty, Alaric quit counting.

* * *

><p>By the time Stefan stopped in front of the entrance to the tomb, he was strangely calm. The bloodlust was there, hovering on the edge of his mind, but whether due to dumb luck or his growing control, it remained on the fringe.<p>

"This is it, then?" Klaus asked, voicing his obvious disappointment.

"This is it," Stefan said, drawing his hands from his pockets as he turned around and leaned against the cliff face. The Original and his witch were studying the simple opening in the rock face with expressions of suspicion and apprehension respectively. Taking advantage of their preoccupation, Stefan let his gaze wander idly to the left. The trees grew close together in that direction and the underbrush was nearly impenetrable from years of growing and dying unchecked. His powerful vision was unable to pierce the shadows, but he knew Damon, Bonnie and Elijah were there…watching.

A small smile flashed across his lips. Perhaps, if the others saw it, they'd take it for reassurance, but Stefan wasn't sure the gesture qualified. Anticipation coursed through his veins as he understood it for what it was – excitement. The stakes were high on this endeavor, as was the reward.

For the past two months, Stefan hadn't allowed himself to look beyond the present moment. He'd had to let go of Elena, of Damon, of Mystic Falls and the closest thing he'd had to a life since 1864. With the bloodlust and the accompanying madness consuming him, it hadn't been hard, but the loss had been there – a distant pain clawing at him along with the remnants of his humanity. Every day he'd spent with Klaus had been an exercise in surviving what was now right in front of him. If they succeeded, Klaus would be dead, Katherine would be safe and most importantly, he would be free.

All they had to accomplish was the impossible.

"Well, perhaps it's more impressive on the inside," Klaus muttered, having completed his cursory observations. Tightening his grip on Mia's arm, he pushed her in front of him. "Come along, my darling, ladies first."

Mia stumbled through the opening, her fear a pungent perfume in the air as Klaus followed close behind. Narrowing his eyes, Stefan scanned the tree line one more time before pushing away from the rocky cliff wall and ducking inside.

The iron sconces held fresh candles, but the light had a hard time penetrating the gloom. Mia's comparatively poor eyesight was doing her no favors within the dimly lit cavern and by the time they reached the bottom of the stairs, Klaus was muttering obscenities under his breath as he all but carried her.

"Where is she, Stefan?" Klaus demanded the second the younger vampire's feet hit the hard packed dirt floor. "I am tired of waiting."

"A thousand years is a long time," Stefan muttered as he made his way to the closed stone door. Instantly, he realized his mistake. The Original had never revealed the details of his haunting to him.

"What did you say?" Klaus demanded, his voice sharp with suspicion.

Rather than scramble for an answer that would only dig him into a deeper hole, Stefan grabbed the rough edge of the door leading to the inner chamber and gave Klaus a glimpse of his prize. "She's inside."

The sound of stone against stone cut through the hush of the cavern as he slowly heaved the door open. At the other end of the short tunnel, he saw Elena lying on her back on one of the benches. One foot on the ground, the other leg bent at the knee and propped up on the fought hewn stone. Her arm had been draped across her eyes, but at the sound of the door opening, she pulled it away and turned her head in their direction. The look of disgust and betrayal on her face was so perfect that Stefan had to remind himself that Katherine was outside, some distance away, and presumably fighting whatever backup Klaus had sent ahead of him.

The second her gaze shifted to Klaus, Elena's expression turned to dread. She sat up quickly, rattling the chains of the iron cuffs around her wrists as she did so. In a true testament to Katherine's stubborn pride, Elena didn't scramble in terror or cower in the corner. Gracefully, she stood up, planting her feet in a wide stance directly facing the corridor and lifted her chin.

"Katerina Petrova," Klaus said, savoring the name as he escorted Mia down the tunnel. Now that he could see his prey, his posture and pace relaxed. "It seems like only yesterday…"

"Klaus," Elena replied tersely, standing her ground. Stefan watched her carefully, noting the way her entire body trembled in the glow of the candles. Pinning him with her gaze, he almost felt a sharp stab of remorse for his supposed disloyalty. "I should have known. What is this, some sort of trade for your precious Elena?"

Narrowing his eyes, he regarded her for a moment with surprise. They hadn't rehearsed the act and he hadn't been expecting her to embrace Katherine quite so completely. Shrugging, he took a breath and glanced around the tomb. "This isn't about Elena. This is about you and Klaus. I'm just-."

"The lapdog?" Elena sneered, jerking her arms against the chains holding her in place. "The dutiful servant who does whatever his master demands? To think I thought I loved you. You're spineless."

"Enough," Klaus said, his voice echoing in the small chamber as Stefan bit back a grin and dropped his chin to his chest. He almost wished Katherine were here to see Elena's performance. Damon had been right. Elena was playing the role with aplomb. "You said she had been vervained, yes?"

"It should be out of her system by now," Stefan assured him, sending Elena a meaningful look.

"Let us hope so," he replied, moving closer to Elena. Stefan's amusement vanished as he watched the Original approach the human. Damon had ordered him not to let Klaus touch Elena and he knew it wasn't just his brother's usual overprotective streak shining through. There was no guarantee that Bonnie's spell would survive the scrutiny of a thousand-year-old vampire.

Elena helped her own cause by refusing to wither beneath Klaus's gaze. Lifting her chin as he came within inches of her, she met his eye as he said. "Sit and be silent."

Her eyes widened fractionally before she did as she was told, sinking to the bench with a vacant expression that quickly returned to cold fury as if she'd realized she'd been compelled. Turning his back on her as if she were nothing, Klaus addressed his witch. "Mia? Set up for the ritual."

* * *

><p>Damon hovered behind Bonnie and Elijah, anxious to the point of insanity, as they calmly watched Stefan lead Klaus and a redhead into the tomb. In his mind's eye he could picture them descending the steps into the front chamber, ducking through the short tunnel and entering the main tomb where Elena was waiting. He hadn't been there to see the iron cuffs latched around her wrists, but he knew the plan.<p>

_The stupid fucking non-plan. _

Images of Elena in the tomb came to him unbidden. He recalled the way she'd trembled in his arms when he'd caught her at the bottom of the stone steps and the way it had continued as he'd led her down the tunnel. It had taken every bit of strength he possessed to only kiss her once and leave her in there when he had. Helplessness washed over him as he imagined her chained to the goddamn wall with nothing and nobody to keep her company while the fear she'd tried so hard to pretend didn't exist ate away at her.

He couldn't decide what bothered him more – the fact that she'd had to spend that hour of silent waiting alone or the fact that now, when it was finally over, she would have to face the vampire who'd killed her with only _Stefan _as backup.

Damon seemed to be the only one who appreciated the utter ridiculousness of _that _reality.

Closing his eyes, he turned around and tried to force the images out of his head. The list of things that could go wrong – the number of ways Elena could die before Bonnie had a chance to perform the sacrifice and weaken Klaus – grew longer by the second. After Vicki and Anna's revelation that Liliana wasn't hanging around on the other side, the vague idea that the Original was completely unhinged had become fact. He could lose his temper or figure out that Elena was human and backhand her head right off her body.

There were so many ways Damon could fail her. Even now.

"Relax, Damon," Bonnie whispered. "Stefan's there. He'll keep Elena safe."

Scowling, he turned back around and glared at her. As much as he wanted to believe that there was a part of his brother that still cared about Elena's wellbeing, the vivid memory of her bouncing off of the brick wall in Savannah and landing in a broken heap on the ground made it a hard sell. "Stefan will keep Elena safe? Really? Do you think about what you say, Bonnie, or do you just spout off platitudes randomly?"

"He wants to be free of Klaus as much as we do," the witch insisted, returning Damon's glare with one of her own. "He's on our side."

"Stefan's been on a two month blood binge, who knows what side he's on," Damon countered, advancing on her until she had to crane her neck to meet his eye. He'd tried – _really _tried – to appreciate the fact that he and Elena were the only people who'd seen Stefan at his most unhinged, but his capacity for the bullshit of her supposed _friends _had reached its limit. "He almost killed her once, maybe he was just waiting for the chance to try again."

"You don't really believe that," Bonnie scoffed, completely unfazed by Damon's attempts at intimidation.

"What I _believe _is that right now my brother is a wild card," he said, frustration – both at himself and the group of people who claimed to care so much about Elena – coloring every word. "And yet everybody happily trusts him with Elena's life."

"Oh my god, we've been _over_this and over this," she exclaimed, sighing in exasperation and completely missing the point. "It _had _to be Stefan. He's the only one that Klaus-."

"If I may interject an opinion," Elijah interrupted quietly.

"Would it matter if I said no?" Damon asked, without sparing the Original a glance.

Raising a brow, Elijah ignored the sarcastic remark. "Elena's safety may no longer be a priority for Stefan, but he's not without motivation to see that this plan succeeds. Katherine's life depends on it."

"Yeah, don't remind me. _She__'__s _the one who should be in that tomb," Damon said, crossing his arms in an effort to hold himself still against the adrenaline urging him to _act. _Elena was lucky he wouldn't be around when the dust settled because if he had his way, he'd lock her in the cellar back at the house and never let her out again. Pacing a few feet away, he muttered. "How many times does she have to risk her life before she wizens up and realizes we're just not worth it?"

"Damon, she's…Elena's going to be fine," Bonnie replied, taking deep breath as she made an effort to be civil. For reasons completely unknown to Damon, she sounded quite confident. "Trust me, okay?"

"Just…do the spell, Bonnie," he demanded quietly, turning his back once again to the witch and the Original. He heard her sigh before she dropped her hand and began murmuring the magic words. He was supposed to trust her. _Fuck __that. _Before Stefan had embraced the dark side, Damon had trusted three people: his brother, Alaric and Elena. Now that number was down to two, and unless a miracle occurred and their plan actually worked, that number would be reduced to zero.

_Then again, I'll be dead._

"Bonnie…" Elijah said, catching the witch as she began to sway with the intensity of the spell. Damon whirled around as Elijah carefully lowered Bonnie to the ground.

"What the hell?" Damon demanded, crouching beside them. Oblivious, Bonnie continued chanting as Elijah took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and studied her features. Beneath her closed lids, Bonnie's eyes were moving feverishly as the words of the shielding spell fell from her lips in a monotonous blur. Scowling, Damon shook his head. "Dammit, Witch, I thought you said you could do this."

"She _is _doing it," Elijah said quietly as sweat broke out on Bonnie's brow.

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that when the nosebleeds start," Damon muttered, agitation propelling him to his feet again. Staring across the clearing, he focused on the entrance to the tomb and searched for some indication that the spell was working. He wouldn't see anything – invisibility was the whole point of the shield – but he couldn't help it.

"It's done," Bonnie murmured few minutes later, opening her eyes and blinking in surprise to find herself on the forest floor with Elijah's arm around her shoulders. "Wh-what happened? Why am I…on the ground?"

"You almost passed out," Damon explained, watching her carefully. "Are you sure you can-."

"I'm fine," she insisted, shrugging out of Elijah's grasp and climbing easily to her feet. Studying her every move, Damon couldn't find any fault with her claim. Bonnie's eyes were clear and the sheen of perspiration on her skin had already evaporated into the night air. Whatever had happened was clearly not affecting her anymore. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she looked at him sheepishly. "Spellwork like that requires a lot of concentration. I probably should have been sitting down anyway."

Damon said nothing as she brushed past him, pushing through the dense foliage and heading for the tomb. Elijah watched her take half a dozen completely steady steps before following her into the clearing. Damon hesitated as a feeling of foreboding made his stomach turn.

He'd seen enough witches cast enough spells in his lifetime to know that what Bonnie had said was probably true. Casting everyday spells was like muscle memory – the more a witch cast a particular spell, the easier it became – hence why Bonnie could brain whammy him with little more than a raised eyebrow. Unfamiliar spells, no matter how insignificant, required an incredible amount of preparation and concentration. Bonnie's _swoon _wasn't all that surprising really.

So why was Damon suddenly certain their plan was about to fall apart?

"Damon," Bonnie hissed from halfway across the clearing, gesturing for him to hurry and join them. With a sigh, he shelved his doubts and pushed through the thicket, using his vampiric speed to catch up to them in less than a second. _I__'__m __probably __just __being __paranoid._

Bonnie paused at the entrance, listening for any sounds within. Damon listened as well, catching snippets of conversation from deep within the tomb. He couldn't make them out clearly enough to decipher any actual words, but there was no screaming, so he considered that a plus.

"Well?" Bonnie asked, looking at him expectantly.

Damon shrugged. "It sounds like the coast is clear."

She blew out a breath before nodding and placing a hand on the rock wall for guidance. "Here we go."

"Bonnie," he said, grabbing her arm. He expected impatience as she turned to look at him, but she simply raised her brows and waited. The lack of antagonism threw him off, reminding him that the second he stepped inside that tomb, it would be real – his death would be eminent. While he'd willingly die for Elena, he wasn't one of those martyrs who embraced death with a smile. Swallowing, he tried to keep the desperation from his tone. "You can do this, right? This plan has to work. Elena has to live."

"I can do it, Damon," she promised without a hint of exasperation in having to reassure him for the millionth time.

"Good," he replied, even though it wasn't. There was nothing _good_regarding what was about to happen in the tomb. Even though he knew that Elena would have a better life – the life she deserved – without him in it, Damon wished they'd had more time to come up with a plan that didn't involve his death. Twisting his lips into a smirk, he added. "The last thing I want to do with my afterlife is spend it haunting you, so don't give me a reason to, alright?"

Bonnie held his gaze for a moment before glancing at Elijah. Damon narrowed his eyes as something passed between them, but she turned back to him before he could decipher it. Lifting her chin, she offered him a small smile and promised. "I won't.

* * *

><p>The hybrids were many, but as Caroline cleanly ripped the heart from her ninth adversary, their lack of preparation was obvious. Relying on their superior strength and speed – or perhaps thinking they could overwhelm the group of five by sheer numbers alone – the hybrids had rushed at her and her friends without a hint of a game plan and were now living to regret their mistake.<p>

_Make __that __dying, _Caroline thought with satisfaction as she tossed the bloody organ aside_._Indulging in her new post-kill habit, she searched the field of fallen and fighting bodies for Tyler. She found him near the SUV where he'd teamed up with Alaric and a seemingly endless supply of wolfsbane. The two men were working in tandem – Tyler timed the grenades for maximum impact, tossing it at groups of three or four hybrids and stunning them into submission so Alaric could cleanly decapitate them. It was a good system. Reassuring.

Tyler needed to survive the night. Caroline still hadn't told him she loved him.

An enterprising hybrid took advantage of her momentary distraction, leaping at her from behind with a snarl that gave her only a fraction of a second to whirl around and deflect the jaws that had been lunging for her throat. She grappled with the beast for a few moments before she was able to wedge her hand between her body and the hybrid's and plunge it into its chest. The creature's eyes went wide as Caroline actually looked at her enemy for the first time, surprised to find the eyes of a girl not much older than her. Blinking in confusion, the girl dropped her gaze to the hand Caroline had thrust into her chest.

"Sorry," Caroline said, real regret lacing her tone. The poor girl probably hadn't asked to be transformed into a hybrid, any more than Caroline had asked to become a vampire. With little fanfare, she ripped the hybrid's heart out of her chest and let the lifeless body fall to the ground. Dropping the heart, she shook the blood from her fingers and added sadly. "Ten."

"Eleven," Katherine announced with decidedly more satisfaction. Smirking, she used the back of her hand to wipe blood from her face and lifted a brow at Caroline before taking off to assist Jeremy. "Looks like I'm winning," she called over her shoulder.

Rolling her eyes, Caroline cast a cursory glance toward the SUV, fully expecting to see Tyler and Alaric handily dispatching another round of the seemingly endless supply of hybrids at Klaus's disposal.

Instead she gasped as the sight before her froze her to the spot.

The hybrids numbers had overwhelmed Tyler and Alaric's proven method, trapping them against the SUV like rats in a cage. Eight hybrids swarmed around them, too closely for Tyler to detonate one of the wolfsbane grenades without injuring himself in the process. Swinging desperately through the air, Alaric tried to use the machete to ward them off.

But the hybrids persisted.

* * *

><p>Since she'd learned the truth about Klaus's curse and the lengths he'd gone to for revenge, Mia had been a model prisoner. For the last few days, she'd given him no reason to suspect her motives and as such, he'd given the last order without compelling her. For a brief and glorious moment, she considered turning around and running for her life, dismissing the thought almost instantly. On the off chance she made it to the end of the corridor and out of the tomb, with no idea where she was, there was no hope of outrunning an Original and his equally fast vampire sidekick.<p>

Swallowing, she glanced around the tomb, mentally envisioning the proper set up for the spell. There was nothing overtly difficult about the words or the proper placement of the candles and artifacts. The difficulty was in the concentration and the amount of Power required to entrap an entity that had been around for over a millennium and force it into the body of a five hundred-year-old vampire.

"Is Liliana here?" Mia asked, knowing the possibility was slim, but hoping anyway. If the spirit was present it would save her a lot of effort.

"She is _always _here," Klaus said, practically growling in frustration. Despite the fact that Mia had yet to lay eyes on the Original's sister, she looked around expectantly. Briefly, she met Stefan's gaze and raised her brow inquiringly, but he only shrugged. _Odd,_she mused, kneeling before the tunnel at the cavern's widest point and pulling two blood red candles from her bag. As a rule, witches couldn't see ghosts, but Mia had always been attuned to the spirit world. She would have thought that by now Liliana would have shown herself to someone other than her brother.

"How is this supposed to work?" Stefan asked, watching Mia with a guarded expression she didn't have the time or the mental capacity to decipher.

"It's fairly simple," she replied, wedging the candles into the crudely designed, wrought iron holders. "I channel Liliana's spirit into the body of the doppelganger and then stake her."

"That's it?"

A smile twitched at the corners of her lips. "Well, there's a little more to it than that, I suppose. Harnessing all that Power is exhausting and I don't expect either Liliana or the doppelganger to be willing participants."

"Katherine."

"What?" she asked, setting a mortar and pestle beside the candles before lifting her gaze to Stefan. His arms were crossed as he stared at the woman sitting mutely on the bench.

"Her name is Katherine," he replied, without looking at Mia. The four short words revealed a depth of feeling that caught her off guard. A suspicion began to form in her mind as she hazarded a glance at Klaus, but he was glaring into the opposite corner at an apparition only he could see, oblivious to their conversation.

"Yes, of course," Mia mumbled, practically burying her face in her bag as she added quickly. "Katherine."

For the millionth time, she cursed the greed and pride that had led to her downfall. Not a day went by that she didn't regret aligning herself with Klaus. At first, she'd been euphoric that such an old, powerful and _famous _vampire had specifically sought her out, but the thrill had faded almost as soon as the Original had left her presence. A sick feeling of foreboding had taken its place, growing until she would have traded absolutely anything to free herself from him.

_Do __as __you__'__re __told, _she thought, repeating the mantra that had kept her alive thus far, but the words sounded hollow. Here in the tomb, with her purpose clear and obvious before her, Mia suddenly knew with certainty that Klaus had no intention of letting her live.

Completing the preparations, Mia rose to her feet and turned toward the doppelganger…_Katherine. _The deceptively young looking woman glared at her silently, fury blazing behind her brown eyes. Mia swallowed as she turned toward Klaus. "You'll have to compel her."

"What?" he asked, blinking at them as if he'd forgotten they were there.

"The doppel...I mean, Katherine," Mia said, gesturing weakly at the girl as she crossed her legs defiantly and leaned back against the rough stone wall. "I don't think she'll do what I ask."

"Very well," Klaus grumbled, stalking across the cavern. Moving with vampiric speed, Stefan surged to Katherine's side, grabbing her arm and hoisting her to her feet just as the Original was about to do the same. Katherine shot a murderous glare at the younger man, but once again met Klaus's gaze without fear. In different circumstances, Mia would have been impressed with the other woman's courage in the face of such an unbeatable foe. Pausing for a moment, he stared at her until the look of defiance faded into resignation. "Good girl. Do what Mia tells you, alright?"

Mia shivered at the deceptively friendly tone, shrinking back as Klaus turned away from the two vampires. "She will behave now," he assured her, returning to his corner.

"She'll need to be released," Mia said, addressing Stefan who dutifully reached into his pocket and retrieved a key as old and rusted as the cuffs and chains holding her in place. It was in the witch's nature to touch, to _feel _the life forces of everything around her. Acting on that instinct, she reached for Katherine, taking the young woman's hands to guide her toward the makeshift altar…

…and froze.

_Katherine_ wasn'ta vampire.

The girl's pulse beat almost imperceptibly beneath layers of carefully woven magic. If Mia hadn't made skin-to-skin contact, she never would have noticed. Sucking in a sharp breath, she lifted her gaze to meet the wide brown eyes of the very human girl who definitely wasn't Katherine.

"Who _are_ you?"


	27. La Bomba

_AN: I've been attempting to get chapters 27, 28 & 29 written at once for quicker posting and I'm on the right track, so keep your fingers crossed. _

_Thank you so much for your amazing response to chapter 26. Seriously, I've been stressed over these chapters - and probably driving my beta nuts - because they're so big and there are so many different threads to keep track of and I want each one to live up to the chapters that came before it. I appreciate your replies so, SO much. I hope this one continues to keep you entertained as the fallout continues. Enjoy!_

Chapter Twenty-Seven – La Bomba

Caroline caught her breath and her stomach twisted into a hard knot of fear as she watched the group of hybrids tighten their circle around Tyler and Alaric. They approached cautiously, having learned from those that died before them.

"Tyler," she cried softly, an instant before springing into action and blurring across the clearing. Catching the unsuspecting hybrids from behind, she ripped out three hearts before the lifeless bodies even hit the ground. She plunged her hand into the back of number four just as the rest of the group finally noticed.

"Caroline, heads up," Tyler called, as the hybrids turned to face her more significant threat. He tossed the grenade over their heads, and Caroline snatched it out of the air, pulling the pin as Tyler dropped to the ground and out of the way. Half a second later, the device exploded in her hand, ripping it to shreds as pieces of shrapnel tore through it. Caroline barely blinked as she watched the remaining hybrids wail in tortured agony before falling unconscious. Immediately, Alaric attacked, quickly separating the hybrids' heads from their bodies.

"Are you okay?" Caroline demanded, ignoring the bloody mess of her already healing hand as she crouched beside Tyler.

"I'm fine," he assured her, rising to his knees and offering her a tired smile that faded the instant he saw her hand. "Jesus, Caroline. Your ha-."

"It's healing," she said in a rush as she reached for him with her good hand. Without warning, she grabbed him by the t-shirt, yanking him forward and kissing him squarely on the lips. Tyler's stunned surprise lasted all of two seconds before he was eagerly kissing her back. His hands found their way to her face, framing it as he held her close.

When they came apart, she opened her eyes to find him looking at her quizzically. "What was that for?"

"For not getting dead," Caroline replied, adding before she could second guess herself. "And because I love you."

Tyler's eyes went wide as he stared at her. "What?"

"I love you," she repeated, undeterred by his reaction as she held him close. "I know this isn't the best time, but I-."

Silencing her with his mouth, Tyler kissed her until her mind went blank and she couldn't even remember where she was, let alone worry about the threat of hybrids. He pulled away, leaving her dazed, and whispered. "I love you, too."

"I'm fine, by the way," Alaric said, grunting as he dropped to his knees in the middle of the assorted headless bodies. Burying the sharp end of the machete in the ground, he braced an arm over the hilt and dragged his hand over his face. Offering Caroline and Tyler a pained grin, he added. "Thanks for asking."

Blushing, Caroline released her death grip on Tyler's shirt, but kept her hand on his chest. She looked around the battlefield, finding Jeremy and Katherine fighting in tandem thirty yards away, closer to the tomb. The scent of blood hung thick in the air, reminding Caroline of Alaric's wound. Taking a cursory assessment of his arm, she determined that while the bleeding had stopped, he'd lost a lot of blood. Her fingers curled involuntary into Tyler's shirt again as she asked. "Do you think that's it?"

Alaric blew out a breath, opening his mouth to answer when a crashing sound to their right drew their attention. Another group of hybrids broke through the tree line, stopping abruptly when they saw their fallen brethren. They were close enough that Caroline could see the feral yellow glow of their eyes as they hesitated, seemingly unsure of whether to proceed or run in terror.

For several long seconds that felt like hours to Caroline, they were at a standoff with the creatures. Then the one in the lead nodded and the rest snapped to attention, zeroing in on her, Alaric and Tyler as they slowly advanced.

Rising to his feet, Alaric pulled the machete from the ground and wrapped his fingers around the bloodstained handle. "No. Definitely not it."

* * *

><p>"Who are you?"<p>

Rendered dumb and completely paralyzed, Elena stared silently at Mia as the witch's question lingered in the air. The fragment of her brain that was still functioning screamed at her to snatch her hands out of Mia's grasp and offer a scathing retort in true Katherine fashion, but Elena couldn't even breathe.

_Mia knows. Oh, my god, she knows. _

The plan had been proceeding smoothly. After Caroline had left, closing the heavy stone door as she exited the tomb, Elena had spent the better part of an hour in anxious anticipation of what was to come. She hadn't been eager to face Klaus, but with the vampire blood running through her veins, she'd been able to enjoy a certain amount of peace. The knowledge that no matter what happened, she'd wake up in the morning had been oddly comforting.

When Klaus had entered the tomb, flanked by Stefan and a redhead she now knew as Mia, Elena had immediately slipped into her role. Doing her best to remain calm as she channeled Katherine, she'd met the Original's predatory sneer with defiance, surprising herself at how easily her doppelganger's taunts and jabs had spilled from her lips. Her confidence had grown with each minute she'd successfully played her part until she'd been all but certain of their success.

_Until __now,_she thought with despair, trying to will her racing heart to slow down. Elena had been so intent on not letting Klaus touch her, that she hadn't spared Mia a second thought.

_And now she knows. _

"The doppelganger," Stefan replied calmly, his voice bringing Elena back to the present. He held on to her arm, grounding her, but with the human blood running through his veins she could only take a certain amount of comfort in his presence. If Klaus discovered the truth, Elena wasn't entirely sure which side Stefan would choose.

Forcing her features into a haughty expression, she held her breath as Mia looked doubtfully at Stefan. Subtly, Elena tried to tug her hands free from the witch's grasp, but Mia held firm. She narrowed her eyes at Elena, tightening her grip and staring at her with a penetrating gaze that seemed to go right through her.

A strange, feathery sensation swept over her body, making Elena's pulse pound faster. For the first time, she physically _felt _a spell as Mia's senses probed at the glamour Bonnie had cast to mask her humanity. Elena's heart dropped like a stone to the bottom of her stomach as her certainty of their success became a certainty of their failure. She didn't dare look at Klaus, but the weight of his gaze weighed her down as the one thought she'd deliberately pushed to the back of her mind fought its way front and center.

There were _a__lot_ of ways to die - painful, creative and bloody ways. If Klaus's anger at being tricked caused him to rip her heart out, no amount of vampire blood in her system would save her. God forbid he ripped her head off.

As the thought swept through her, she had an insane urge to break down into hysterical laughter. She was beginning to think like Damon.

And thought's like those weren't going to do her much good _now._

Just as Elena thought she'd be smothered by Mia's Power, the witch pulled it back. Hazarding a glance at Klaus, Elena gasped and sucked in a full breath for the first time in what felt like a century. Stefan squeezed her arm, reminding her of the role she was supposed to be playing.

"Is there a problem, Mia?" Klaus asked, venturing a step closer. With the Power probe gone, a fraction of Elena's confidence returned, enough to allow her to purse her lips and raise a brow at the witch. Klaus may have compelled 'Katherine' to silence, but he hadn't done anything to stop her from having an attitude.

_Please, don't let her say anything. Please. _

Elena had no reason to think Mia would switch teams in the middle of the game, but desperate prayer was all she had to fight with at the moment. Even if she and Stefan made it out of the back corner of the tomb to the tunnel without Klaus catching them, there was no way of knowing if Bonnie had put the shield into place.

"No," Mia finally said, her tone deliberately light. Dropping one of Elena's hands, she turned to face the Original and added. "There's no problem at all."

Elena closed her eyes briefly before shooting Stefan a relieved glance. Opting not to question a lucky break, she allowed Mia to lead her toward the collection of candles and other magical paraphernalia that had been spread out on the ground in front of the tunnel. As the witch instructed her to lie down, Elena glanced surreptitiously down the tunnel.

There was no sign of Bonnie or Damon.

"So, what's next, Klaus?" Stefan asked, moving casually as he deliberately placed himself between the Original and Elena. The next phase of the plan was in play. Stefan would distract Klaus so that Elena could make her escape. "After you're free of Liliana and Katherine, I mean…what's next?"

Elena watched Mia carefully as she rummaged in her bag. Retrieving a dark red, waxy looking substance, the witch held it up to the flame of one of the candles. The heat melted whatever it was as she caught the drips in the mortar. Softly, she began chanting in a language Elena didn't recognize, drowning out Stefan and Klaus's conversation.

Elena looked over Mia's shoulder toward the vampires. Immediately, Klaus caught her eye, making her cringe and look away. Whether Bonnie had erected the shield or not, Elena knew she'd never even make it to her feet, let alone all the way to the end of the tunnel, with Klaus watching her like a hawk.

"What's going on?" Mia whispered, making Elena jump and snap her head back to look at the witch. Sitting on her knees, Mia appeared to be engrossed in her task, but she was looking at Elena through narrowed eyes. Swallowing, Elena said nothing as Mia's lips compressed into a thin line of disapproval. "Tell me your plan or I'm telling Klaus you're not the doppelganger."

"I _am _the doppelganger," Elena insisted, speaking so low she could barely hear the words. "I'm just…not Katherine."

Mia's movements stilled for a moment before she nodded in understanding. "Elena Gilbert. I thought you were dead."

"I was," Elena muttered, watching and waiting as Mia set the mortar down and retrieved a vial filled with black chunks of something that looked like charcoal. Uncorking it, she tipped several pieces into the mortar.

"It doesn't matter," Mia said, recapping and returning the vial to her bag. Picking up the pestle, she began to grind the two ingredients together. "The ritual will work with either doppelganger."

"I thought you said you were ready," Klaus demanded, appearing so suddenly at Mia's side that Elena flinched, certain they'd been caught conspiring.

"I'm not baking a cake, Klaus, some of the steps must be performed within the confines of the ritual itself," Mia said through clenched teeth, allowing her frayed nerves to show in spite of her obvious fear of the Original. He tensed at her side before laying a hand on her shoulder. Mia froze, closing her eyes as the color drained from her already pale face.

"Careful, witch," he said, the light warning sounding more menacing than a growled threat.

"I-I'm sorry," Mia stammered, licking her dry lips. "I just…I can't concentrate with you looking over my shoulder."

"Let her work," Stefan said mildly, standing with his hands in his pockets and maintaining his detached exterior. "The sooner we're free of Katherine, the sooner we can get the hell out of here."

Elena held her breath as Klaus hovered at Mia's side. Stefan spared her a brief glance before placing a hand on the other vampire's shoulder. Speaking as if nothing about his current situation affected him in the slightest, he prompted the Original. "So, why didn't you tell me about the hybrids?"

As Stefan led Klaus away, Elena closed her eyes and released the breath she'd been holding. That was twice now that Mia had chosen _not_to reveal the truth. They were so damn close. By a stroke of luck, Mia had placed Elena right in front of the path to freedom, all she needed was a sign from Bonnie that the shield was up and she could run. Sighing, she turned her head and gazed longingly down the tunnel…

…and looked directly into Damon's eyes.

For a second, she stared, dumbfounded despite the fact that she'd been waiting for him to appear. The impulse to scramble to her feet and run into his arms was so strong, she actually propped herself up on her elbows before she remembered where she was. Lying back down, she quickly took stock of the tomb. Stefan had Klaus occupied for the moment while Mia was working with the ingredients for the spell. No one had noticed.

Elena looked back down the tunnel, drinking in Damon's features as if he were her salvation. It felt like days since she'd seen him, rather than hours. Sheer determination replaced the fear and panic that had nearly overwhelmed her a moment ago.

She'd find a way out, no matter what happened.

"Are you okay?" Damon mouthed the words silently, but Elena swore she could hear them. Swallowing, she nodded her head, glancing pointedly at Mia.

"She knows," Elena said the words on a sigh, barely forming them, but Damon understood. Closing his eyes, he rested his forehead against the rough hewn stone and bit back a curse. Looking at her again, he gestured for her to come to him, to make a run for it. Elena's eyes went wide and she shook her head.

"I'll help you," Mia muttered, keeping her attention focused on grinding the black pellets into dust with the mortar and pestle.

Elena jumped before turning her wide-eyed gaze on the witch. "What?" she demanded, barely parting her lips.

"I'll help you," Mia said again, looking at Elena through her lashes.

Elena hesitated, wary of the offer being a trap. "Why?"

"Klaus plans on killing me when this is over, anyway," she explained, taking a pinch of the black powder and tossing it into the air above Elena's prone body. It settled in a fine dust over her skin as she blinked it out of her eyes. The witch continued. "If I help you, at least I'll die with a clear conscience."

Elena said nothing, looking back down the tunnel and catching Damon's eye. He would never agree to an alliance with a witch on Klaus's payroll, but the fact that he was there at all meant Bonnie had been successful in raising the shield. The clock was already ticking and she was running out of time.

"Okay," Elena whispered, tearing her gaze away from Damon's anxious features to look Mia in the eye. "How?"

* * *

><p>Katherine watched in approval as Jeremy aimed a wolfsbane tipped silver arrow at an approaching hybrid and hit him squarely in the chest. The beast went down to his knees with a howl of rage and pain that was cut off abruptly as she plunged her hand through his chest, removing both the heart and the arrow.<p>

Yanking the bloody projectile out of the warm and dripping organ, she tossed the arrow back to Jeremy and gave a nod. "Nice shot."

"Duck," he ordered by way of thanks. Instantly dropping to her knees, Katherine heard the arrow whiz through the air above her head, followed by the squelching sound of metal piercing flesh. The inhuman cry that came next was familiar and just as quickly silenced as she relieved this hybrid of his heart.

"Eighteen," she announced, tossing the organ aside and shaking drops of blood from her hand.

"Are you keeping score?" Jeremy asked, sounding amused and horrified at the same time.

"I'm kicking Caroline's ass," Katherine replied with a smirk. Jeremy shook his head, retrieving the arrow himself this time and reloading the crossbow with impressive finesse.

"How do you think the others are doing?" he asked, scanning the trees for more hybrid movement. The human boy tried to keep his voice casual, but she easily detected the tension and worry behind the question.

"I don't know," Katherine replied honestly. She'd never been one to placate and she certainly wasn't going to start now. Movement in the shadows caught her eye and she took a step forward, peering into the dark. "Hopefully your witch is up to the task."

"Bonnie knows what she's doing," Jeremy replied, staunchly defending his girlfriend. Katherine rolled her eyes, taking another step in the direction of the tomb, certain she'd seen two figures trying to stay hidden in the trees. She wondered if Bonnie had informed her boyfriend that her plan hinged on sacrificing Damon.

She doubted it.

"Are you good on your own here?"

"Yeah, where are you-."

"Two hybrids," she interrupted, pointing toward the thick shadows. "Heading toward the tomb. Someone's got to keep them from getting there and warning Klaus."

"Yeah, I'm good," Jeremy assured her, gesturing with his crossbow. "Go."

Katherine didn't need to be told twice. Blurring into the forest, she deftly skirted trees and silently leapt over fallen logs and the thickest brambles. Losing herself in the thrill of the chase, she became the consummate hunter as she stalked her prey through the woods.

She caught the first one just as they broke through a clump of trees. Tackling the hybrid from behind, they crashed to the ground and rolled in a tangle of limbs. Klaus hadn't trained them to be warriors, but he'd obviously told them about the power of their bite. She wrapped one arm around his neck, rendering his head – and more importantly his lethal teeth – immobile. Shoving her hand through his back, she felt the warm gush of blood over her fingertips. The hybrid roared in anger, clawing at her and snapping its jaws. Reaching within his body, past his spinal cord and under his lower ribs, she found her rapidly beating target. Closing her hand into a fist around the heart, she yanked her hand back, exposing it to the moonlight.

The hybrid tensed for a moment before his entire body went slack. Extricating herself from the dead weight of his lifeless limbs, Katherine wasted no time in regaining her feet and scanning the clearing for the other hybrid.

"Shit," she cursed as she saw the familiar opening of the tomb. The rogue hybrid, a woman not much older than Katherine had been when she'd turned, was within twenty feet of the opening. Katherine blurred over the uneven ground, grabbing her by the hair just as she was about to duck inside. Before the hybrid could utter a sound and possibly alert Klaus to the trap, Katherine snapped her neck.

The hybrid collapsed to the ground in a haphazard heap as Katherine took a moment to catch her breath. Pushing her hair out of her face with bloodstained hands, she sighed as she noticed a huge tear in her leather jacket, from her elbow all the way up to her shoulder.

"Great," she muttered, shrugging out of the ruined garment and tossing it aside. Crouching beside the hybrid, she quickly relieved the creature of its heart and wiped her bloody hands on the discarded jacket. Rising to her feet, she stared at the entrance to the tomb.

Stefan was in there.

Katherine closed her eyes, straining with all of her heightened senses to feel or hear him through all of the layers of stone. Silence was her only response – she couldn't even hear the sounds of the hybrid battle. The woods were still, the night cold and indifferent.

Turning away from the black opening in the rock, Katherine swallowed and stared at the body of the hybrid at her feet. In five hundred years, she'd killed hundreds, but had loved only once. Stefan Salvatore had been the only person – human, vampire, werewolf or otherwise – to get under her skin and make her care enough to look beyond her pursuit of survival at all costs. Meeting him all those years ago had awakened all of the foolish notions of fairy tale love that had died with Katerina Petrova and her family.

Katherine had tried to ignore them, tried to convince herself that he was just another game, another conquest, but the past one hundred and fifty years she'd spent following him through his life as a vampire said otherwise. She'd always watched over him and now, as he faced the greatest threat yet, she wasn't there.

_Enjoy eternity alone, Katherine._

Spinning around again, she strode purposefully to the entrance and braced her hands on either side. _I __will __not __spend __eternity __alone, _she thought, peering into the black abyss as her body quaked at the notion of stepping into the shadows.

"I belong with Stefan," she whispered into the silence, daring it to contradict her. She'd thinned the pack of hybrids by twenty, the others could take care of the rest. She needed to be wherever Stefan was, to protect him like she always had and make certain he survived so they could be together. Taking a deep breath, she briefly closed her eyes before stepping into the darkness.

* * *

><p>They had a plan.<p>

Elena chewed on her bottom lip as she waited in anxious anticipation for Mia to give her the signal. The witch had proposed a spell, a shield similar to Bonnie's that would provide them with a miniscule window of opportunity to escape Klaus.

"It won't be as strong," Mia had cautioned when she'd proposed the spell. Glancing surreptitiously over her shoulder to make sure their conversation was going unnoticed, she'd added. "But it should give us enough time."

Elena had nodded, following Mia's gaze to where Stefan had been doing his best to keep Klaus occupied. Now, as the witch began chanting a different set of words, Elena felt a pang of anxiety over her former boyfriend. Trust issues notwithstanding, she didn't like the idea of leaving Stefan in the tomb after she escaped. While it had always been part of the plan, seeing Klaus in person, feeling his malevolent presence, made the threat of him real. This wouldn't be like when Stefan had been trapped with Katherine. Klaus had the ability and the temperament to kill Stefan without a second thought.

_He__'__s __a __vampire, __he __can __take __care __of __himself, _Elena thought, the voice in her head sounding a lot like Damon. _You__'__d __only __get __yourself __killed._

Risking a glance down the tunnel, she caught Damon's eye. While she was worried for Stefan, she was infinitely more relieved that it wouldn't be Damon stuck in the tomb with Klaus. Stefan had at least a chance of convincing the Original that he'd had no knowledge of the escape, that it had all been Katherine's plan.

Elena offered Damon a ghost of a smile, praying he'd take some comfort in it. She knew being stuck on the other side of the shield, unable to do a damn thing but wait, was killing him. She couldn't wait to feel his arms around her, holding her tightly for a few precious seconds before they had to get back to the business of killing an Original. _I__'__ll __tell __him __I __love __him __the __second __I __get __out_, she decided, vowing never to wait to tell him anything again.

"Now!" the witch hissed, catching Elena off guard and yanking her from her fantasy. She wasted precious seconds looking at Klaus as her heart stuttered before slamming against her ribs. Mia scowled, grabbing Elena's arm. "Go!"

Rolling to her side, Elena scrambled to her feet and lunged toward the entrance just as Klaus noticed their movement and roared. "What the _hell_ is going on?"

The sound of his voice sent a spike of fear down Elena's spine and despite every instinct telling her to _fucking __run,_she froze in terror and looked over her shoulder.

The Original snarled, his features twisted with rage as he leapt toward Mia. Proving exactly which side he was on, Stefan threw himself at the Original, propelling them both into the wall of the tomb. Bits of stone and dust rained down on them as they fell to the floor.

"Elena, move!" Damon ordered, his voice breaking through the paralyzing fear that had gripped her limbs. Looking back down the tunnel, she saw him standing at the end, his arms braced on either side of the doorway. She made it two steps before Katherine's stupid boots with their tiny stiletto heels proved her undoing. Tripping, she twisted her ankle and fell hard against the wall of the corridor. Pain radiated from her foot all the way up her leg, making her cry out as she fell to her hands and knees onto the dirt floor.

Cursing the ridiculous boots and her own clumsiness, Elena pushed herself to her feet and stumbled ahead. Ignoring the pain, she focused on getting to Damon, knowing that if Klaus caught her, he'd make her pay in as many bloody and painful ways as possible.

Elena could have sworn the corridor between caverns was only ten feet long, twelve at most, but as she tried to move through the agony in her ankle, the distance seemed to double. Mere feet from freedom, she heard a scuffle punctuated by grunts of pain and then a crash as something heavy collided with one of the stone benches. As Mia screamed at her to hurry, Elena couldn't help glancing over her shoulder just in time to see Klaus rising from the rubble of one of the stone benches.

She had only a second to notice Stefan's body lying in a bloody heap on the floor before Klaus came at her, hitting the shield Mia had erected at full vampiric speed. The force of the collision obliterated the shield, blasting Power out in every direction. Klaus flew backwards into the wall as Mia collapsed to her knees.

"Mia," Elena cried, raising a hand and squinting against the Power surging down the tunnel. Mia cast a quick glance over her shoulder before looking back at Elena. Her nose was bleeding and there were tears streaming from her pain filled eyes, but she offered her a smile.

"Go," she whispered, lifting her hand just as Klaus struggled to his feet, shaking off dirt and bits of rock.

"Elena, what are you waiting for?" Bonnie asked, her voice carrying down the tunnel in a panicked shriek. Elena looked back, torn between running to freedom and the life of a woman who'd been ready to kill her only moments ago.

_Don't be a martyr, Elena. _

This time the voice was her own and she listened to it without hesitation as Klaus grabbed Mia by the throat and hauled her to her feet. Elena only made it a single step before another blast of Power lifted her from the ground and propelled her forward.

* * *

><p>Mia's final act – the blast of Power that lifted Elena off the ground – rolled down the tunnel and hit the outer cavern, bringing Bonnie, Damon and Elijah to their knees. The spell was wild, desperate and cut off too quickly as Klaus dragged the witch to her feet and snapped her neck. Elena hit the wall of the tunnel hard, falling to the ground in a heap just out of Damon's reach on the other side of the shield.<p>

Damon fought to regain his equilibrium as the last of Mia's Power reverberated within the enclosed space. Pushing himself to his knees, he made his way to the very edge of the tunnel. Bonnie was still on the ground, her eyes closed and her hands pressed against her temples.

"The shield's still holding," Elijah assured him, kneeling next to Bonnie.

"Great," Damon muttered, eyeing the outer edge of the doorway as if he could see the invisible barrier. Klaus tossed Mia aside like a ragdoll, glaring at her dead body. They had seconds at best before the Original came after Elena. Damon swallowed as panic overrode sentiment and he snapped at her. "Elena!"

Her entire body jerked before she lifted her head, blinking slowly. Blood gushed from a wound along her hairline, making him wince. Bracing his hands on either side of the entrance, he willed her to action. "Elena, give me your hand."

"Damon?" she mumbled, her eyes hazy and unfocused. At the very least she had a concussion, but he resolved to worry about that later, when he had her safely on the other side of the shield.

"Yeah, it's me," he assured her, his voice softening of its own accord at the utterly lost expression on her face. "Elena, you have to get out of there. Give me your hand."

She was so close, within arm's reach if it hadn't been for the damned shield, and Damon was helpless to do anything but beg. Elena wasted a precious second staring at him before looking behind her to where Klaus had finally noticed her.

"Elena Gilbert," Klaus sneered, his lips curling away from his descending fangs. His gaze shifted to Damon. "And Damon Salvatore. I suppose you think you are clever."

"Dammit, Elena, give me your fucking hand _now,_" Damon demanded, ready to forget Plan B and the sacrifice and jump right into Plan C. He was not going to watch Klaus kill her a second time. He'd dive down the tunnel, toss her out and let the Original rip _him_ apart before that happened.

Either the harsh impatience in Damon's voice or the sight of Klaus's menacing form spurred Elena into action. Her eyes were wide with fear and comprehension as she met his gaze and finally did as he asked. The second her fingertips cleared the edge of the doorway, Damon grabbed her hand, hauling her roughly out of the tunnel with every ounce of his heightened strength. Momentum sent them both to the floor just as Klaus charged down the tunnel. Even though Damon knew the shield was still intact, he tightened his grip on Elena and braced for some kind of impact.

Bonnie cried out as Klaus collided with the invisible barrier, catching herself with her hands as she lurched forward. Blood dripped from her nose, pooling on the dirt floor, but she raised her head defiantly. Focusing on the doorway, she muttered a few words under her breath and Power pulsed within the cavern. Klaus beat his fists against nothing and roared in impotent rage, but the shield held.

Damon breathed a sigh of relief, grinning as he shifted his hold on Elena and got to his knees. "You did it, Elena," he said, gently brushing her hair away from her face. Blood oozed from the wound on her forehead, slower than before but still steady. His smile faltered as he took her in up close.

"Elena?" he repeated her name, expecting to see her lashes flutter as she opened her eyes, but she didn't respond. Her skin was pale, almost white in the flickering candlelight, and her lips were bloodless. The image of Elena hitting the wall of the tunnel flashed through his mind, making his stomach twist with dread. She was too still, too…lifeless.

"No," he vowed, slipping his fingers beneath her jaw to search for a pulse. "Don't you die on me, Elena. Not like this."

His anguished plea was met with silence.


	28. Coulda, Woulda, Shoulda

_AN: I'll keep it short and sweet. Thank you SO much for your continued reading and replies. The plot continues to thicken. Enjoy!_

Chapter Twenty-Eight – Coulda, Woulda, Shoulda

For the better part of an hour, Jeremy had been engaged in a steady battle against one hybrid after another, even after Katherine had disappeared into the trees to chase down the hybrids making a break for the tomb. Jeremy had been relieved when Katherine had left. Though he harbored no delusions that he could handle the hybrids on his own, fighting beside the vampire who'd spent one very long day killing him over and over had been a strange experience. Every time he'd looked at her he'd had the disconcerting sensation of seeing Elena with vein-rimmed eyes and sharp, flashing fangs. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he'd been waiting for Katherine to turn on him.

A sudden stillness descended on his side of the clearing as he warily checked the fallen bodies, collecting the wolfsbane dipped arrows he'd used against his enemy. As he scanned the dark forest for the next wave, the sounds of the ongoing fight carried to him from the other side of the clearing. Looking in that direction, he saw Alaric, Caroline and Tyler once again outnumbered by the enemy. The moment of peace instantly faded as adrenaline began to course through his system. Reloading the crossbow and double checking his other weapons, Jeremy mentally planned an approach. There were enough trees to give him coverage and if he was lucky the hybrids would be too busy trying to survive to hear him coming.

A branch snapped to his left, freezing him to the spot with the crossbow only half loaded. Swallowing, he turned his head to look toward the sound, dreading what he knew he'd find.

Anxiety twisted his stomach into a knot as he took in not one hybrid, but four.

They'd approached silently, making their way down the hill to block Jeremy's path to the others. As they stared at him, he locked the arrow in place and slowly shifted to a defensive stance. These four hybrids were different than the others he'd faced. Rather than running headlong into death, they'd put some thought into their attack.

And suddenly, the nebulous threat of death seemed very, very real.

His only chance was to take the hybrids out and make a break for the SUV while they struggled with the effects of the wolfsbane. Before the closest hybrid could make the first move, Jeremy calmly squeezed the trigger of the crossbow, enjoying the satisfactory thud as an arrow lodged itself deep in the creature's chest.

Quickly, he fired off two more arrows, meeting with equal success as the hybrids fell to the ground. Without pause, he took aim at the fourth hybrid, bracing himself to break out into a run the second the arrow made contact. He squeezed the trigger and…

…nothing.

Frowning, he pulled the trigger again, trying to ignore the way the howling of the injured hybrids was already dwindling away. The crossbow still refused to fire. The last hybrid smiled slowly, showcasing every one of his sharp, pointed fangs. Frantically, Jeremy squeezed the trigger repeatedly, but the weapon had jammed. Tossing the useless thing aside, he made a desperate lunge toward the SUV, but the remaining hybrid was too quick.

The creature lashed out at him as Jeremy attempted his escape. Pain tore through his body as sharp claws sliced through his t-shirt and skin with ease. Blood flowed warm and thick down his back as he fell to the ground.

During his last moments of consciousness, Jeremy tried to call out to the others. The four hybrids he'd failed to take out were already on the move, closing in on Alaric, Tyler and Caroline with the same stealth and subtlety they'd utilized against him.

The blood loss and pain, however, had other ideas and before Jeremy could utter a word of warning, his world faded to black.

* * *

><p>Halfway down the stone steps, Katherine found herself blindsided by a wave of crippling claustrophobia. Sinking to the stairs, she held her head in her hands as she listened to the sounds of chaos within the tomb. Attempting to ignore the panic, she tried to focus on Stefan. <em>He<em>_'__s __in __there_, she thought bitterly, trapped because of Elena – protecting Elena – while Katherine was reduced to cowering in the shadows.

_What the hell is wrong with me?_

Two months ago, she never would have relied on the plans of others. She would have had contingency plans for her contingency plans, rather than sitting on the ground in a useless heap while she prayed for _Damon__'__s _plan to come through.

"Goddamn you, Stefan Salvatore," she whispered, dropping her head to her hands as she fought off a pathetic wave of emotion. This was all _his _fault. If he hadn't _needed_her so fucking much, she would have been long gone by now. Damon's words may have haunted her for centuries, but the sting would have faded. She could have found someone else to fill the void inside of her that yearned for some kind of companionship as her days stretched into eternity.

Someone unimportant that she could use and discard as the situation suited her.

But Stefan…

"Dammit," she cursed, sucking in a deep breath and burying the tears along with her fear. Neither would save Stefan and they only made her feel even more ridiculous than she already did. Lifting her head, she stood on shaky legs, determined to push past the paralysis that was holding her hostage.

A blast of Power erupted from the cavern below before Katherine could advance a single step, knocking her off balance and pushing her backwards onto the stairs.

"What the hell?" she muttered, rising to her feet again as the last uncomfortable remnants of Power swept past her up the stairs. On the ground, directly in front of the tunnel to the tomb, Elijah was helping Bonnie to a seated position. The witch looked like she'd been through hell and considering the way Klaus was alive and well and beating on the shield like a spoiled child, she obviously had a long way to go before it was all over.

Her gaze traveled past Bonnie and Elijah to the opposite side of the cavern. Damon was on his knees, oblivious to everything else as he cradled an unconscious Elena in his arms. Katherine swallowed uneasily.

_I hope she's just unconscious. _

The sentiment came out of nowhere, surprising her, but she discovered it to be true. She wouldn't shed any tears over the demise of her doppelganger, but she wasn't hoping for her death, either. Katherine's relationship with Stefan was complicated enough. If Elena died as a result of pretending to be _her, _the fallout would be immeasurable. Damon would want her dead – staked through the heart or left in the sun to burn – while Stefan…

Competing with a human was hard enough. Competing with a ghost was impossible.

Deciding there was nothing useful she could do for either Damon or Elena, Katherine hurried to Elijah's side as he rose to his feet. Skipping the preamble, she demanded. "How's Stefan?"

"Elijah!" Klaus roared before his brother could respond. Katherine tensed out of habit, swallowing nervously as she turned toward the vampire who'd hunted her for the past five-hundred years. The look in his eyes was wild and unhinged as he glared at them. "Who let you out of your coffin?"

Katherine had never considered herself brave. Resourceful, intelligent and cunning, yes, but never brave. She'd run away from home, rather than face the wrath of her parents, she'd become a vampire rather than face death, and she'd spent five centuries keeping one step ahead of Klaus because she had lacked the guts to confront him. Her greatest asset had always been her ability to know when she was outmatched. It had kept her alive.

Looking at Klaus now, the cruelty twisting his features into a mockery of Old World gentility, she recalled every moment of fear that she'd lived with for the past five-hundred years. Years of hiding, and denying herself a fucking _life_, rose up inside of her, imbuing her with the boldness that everyone had come to expect from Katherine Pierce.

She was fucking sick of being afraid.

Crossing the dirt floor, she stopped a scant inch from the shield, stood nose to nose with Klaus and looked him in the eye. "I did."

"Katerina," Klaus said, his gaze traveling from her to Elena's unconscious form. His outrage waned as realization dawned and when he spoke again, his voice was dangerously soft. "I should have known you never would have allowed yourself to be captured."

"I've always excelled at thwarting your plans, Klaus," she replied, arching a brow as she peered over his shoulder into the depths of the tomb. Her breath caught as she took in Stefan's body lying on top of a pile of rubble. Concern for him outweighed everything else as she addressed Klaus accusingly. "What did you do to him?"

Katherine's question and the burning indignation in her eyes finally clued Klaus into the full extent of the ruse to which he'd succumbed. The small shred of doubt he'd clung to regarding Stefan's loyalties shattered as his vision went red with rage. _So, __many __lies, _he wailed inwardly, curling his fingers into fists as he threw himself at the invisible shield. He could see it now, the signs that he'd ignored because of his own arrogance – the way Stefan had found control somewhere around Charleston, the way he'd distanced himself and found excuses to be away. Obviously, he and Katherine had been planning this with Damon and that stupid, human, Elena – the doppelganger who was supposed to be dead. Howling in impotent fury, he took some measure of satisfaction in the way Katherine backed away from the tunnel.

_Good. __She __should __be __frightened, _he thought, vowing to rip her limb from limb before the night was over.

"Enough with the tantrum, Klaus," Elijah demanded, appearing by Katherine's side. "It's unbecoming in a vampire your age and it won't change anything. Accept your defeat like a man."

"Defeat?" Klaus scoffed, bracing his arms against the walls of the tomb as he leaned toward them. "I admit, you have taken me by surprise,but you should know better than anybody, _brother,_ that you cannot defeat me."

"We have your books," Elijah said nonchalantly, letting the words sink in as Klaus's eyes went wide and his shoulders slumped fractionally. Behind Elijah, Klaus noticed the little witch who'd assisted in his brother's last attempt on his life. She was digging through a large canvas bag, pulling out the three ancient texts Mia had sent his men after. Although, Klaus had suspected Stefan's rescuers had bested the men when they had never returned, he'd held out hope that they hadn't found the books.

"That means nothing," Klaus insisted, glaring at the witch as she glanced up and caught his eye.

"It means everything," Elijah said, reaching into his suit jacket and bringing out the white oak dagger. Twirling the deadly point against his finger, he stepped closer to the tomb.

"You cannot kill me with that," Klaus reminded him. "If that is your plan-."

"It's not," Elijah interrupted, his voice cold and hard. "It's a reminder and an answer. The answer to why I'm not going to make the same mistake I made on the full moon. You will die tonight and you'll have no one to blame but yourself."

Elijah's confidence unnerved Klaus, but he masked his uncertainty behind his usual arrogance. "You cannot kill me, Elijah. You can hate me and wish me dead, but I know you. Family comes first."

"Yes, family," Elijah mused, curving his lips into a small, icy smile. "Tell me about Liliana, brother. Tell me about how you've seen her all these centuries and never once revealed that truth to me."

Klaus's blood ran cold as Liliana appeared in the outer cavern, hovering behind Elijah's shoulder. Klaus's gaze jumped from one sibling to the other as he struggled for words. "I…do not know…"

"Don't lie to me, Klaus, I'm tired of it," Elijah replied, sighing theatrically as if to illustrate just how fatigued he truly was. "I'll admit I was pained at first, knowing our sister had chosen to reveal herself to you and not to me. I even tried to contact her." He paused before stepping closer to whisper menacingly. "Did you know I kept her ring?"

Illustrating his point, Elijah put the dagger away and drew out a small signet ring that Klaus instantly recognized. A pang of despair and regret coursed through him as Liliana beamed with pleasure at the sight of her favorite possession. Oblivious to the spirit of his long dead sister, Elijah continued. "I used it to summon her, but she never appeared. I thought perhaps she was holding a grudge against me for letting her die, but then I learned the truth…she's not here, Klaus."

Tearing his gaze away from his sister, Klaus stared at his brother with wide eyes. "What?"

"Liliana is not here," Elijah repeated. "She crossed over a long, long time ago."

"That-that is a lie!" Klaus sputtered, glaring at the apparition of his sister. Liliana smiled at him sadly as he pointed. "She is here! She is _always _here!"

A pang of sympathy softened Elijah's cold determination to bring an end to his brother's wasted life. "It's your guilt, Klaus," he said gently, feeling his own sense of responsibility for his sister's death rear its head. "The guilt you feel for causing our sister's death."

"No," Klaus replied, shaking his head violently. "No, it is not _my _guilt. I have nothing to feel guilty about. It was an accident – an _accident!__" _Backing up a few steps, he ran his hands through his hair as his eyes widened in feral panic. "It is the witches. Part of their punishment. It was not enough to curse me and bind my true nature, no, they-they had to torture me for eternity."

Elijah said nothing as he watched his brother fall apart. Even before Liliana's death, Klaus had always been emotional, prone to mood swings that ranged from the highest of highs to the lowest of lows. After the witches had cursed him, he'd only grown worse.

"I am glad I killed them," Klaus insisted, sagging against the wall of the tunnel and staring into space. "I am glad. They deserved it and more for letting Liliana die. Not even the curse can take away the pleasure I derived from ripping their throats out."

Elijah frowned at Klaus's increasingly mad ranting. "Letting Liliana die? What are you talking about?"

"Elijah, you simple fool," Klaus sneered, his red, tear-filled eyes a direct contrast to the snarling gash that was his mouth. "I went to the witches and begged them to spare Liliana. They refused and after she died, they taunted me with the fact that my blood could have saved her. So, I killed them. Nearly the entire coven. The curse was punishment for my crimes."

Elijah reeled, feeling as though he'd been staked with the white oak dagger yet again, only this time he was being forced to remain conscious and doubly suffer. His entire existence had been molded by lies. The witches had known of a cure and had allowed Liliana to die anyway. Klaus had been cursed justly, in retaliation, but had he only told Elijah the truth they could have sought vengeance together. Rather than taking sides and dying in agonizing bloodshed, their family could have stood together against the witches that had allowed Liliana to die.

As he turned away from the tunnel and his brother, the suddenly fresh pain of his sister's death – of his family's death – nearly brought him to his knees. A millennium of loss stretched out behind him while another millennia of loneliness yawned ahead. Klaus's madness made his death a matter of mercy as much as vengeance and Elijah would be left to face eternity alone. Regardless of the truth, neither brother would ever find peace in this world.

Elijah cleared his throat to get Bonnie's attention, nodding as she met his gaze. "It's time."

* * *

><p>Damon ignored Elijah and Klaus as they rehashed old family wounds, focusing instead on Elena. Sheer determination kept the panic at bay as he cradled her in his arms and felt for a pulse. The wound along her hairline continued to slowly ooze blood, adding to the already obscene amount covering half her face and matting her hair. After a few moments of desperate searching, he found her heartbeat. It was weak, but steady and if he hadn't already been kneeling on the ground he would have collapsed with relief.<p>

She was alive.

"Wake up, Elena," he murmured, willing the long, dark lashes resting against her cheeks to flutter and open. Using the hem of his shirt, he gently wiped the blood from her face. The cut wasn't as deep as the blood loss had led him to believe, but her skin and lips were still unnervingly pale. Caressing her cheek on the uninjured side of her face, he begged. "Please, Elena, I need you to open your eyes."

"How is she?" Bonnie demanded, appearing at his side and looking anxiously at her best friend.

"Alive," Damon replied tersely, trying to remind himself that acting as bait had been Elena's choice and that _when _she woke up she would not be pleased to find he'd snapped Bonnie's neck in a fit of misdirected frustration. Elena's heartbeat momentarily fluttered and he steeled himself against a sudden flare of panic before it evened out again. "You and Elijah had better find a way to stall because I'm not going anywhere until Elena wakes up and I know she's going to be okay."

"Understood," Bonnie replied, gazing at her best friend intently.

"What's the fucking hold up? Whatever the plan is, get to it," Katherine demanded, appearing suddenly and kneeling on the ground beside them. Ignoring Damon's icy glare as well as Elena's unconscious form, she cast a glance over her shoulder toward the tunnel. "Klaus is losing it and Stefan's still stuck in there."

"You could always go join him," Damon suggested, hating her with more intensity than ever for being alive and unharmed while Elena remained unconscious. Raising a brow, he sneered. "Maybe Klaus will kill you and save me the trouble."

Katherine rolled her eyes before glancing down at Elena's still unconscious form. Tipping her chin toward her doppelganger, she asked. "What the hell happened?"

"The Power surge threw her into the wall and she hit her head," Bonnie replied quietly, smoothing her hand gently over Elena's crown. Damon took some measure of satisfaction in the unmasked disdain with which Bonnie addressed Katherine. "She almost didn't make it out of the tunnel."

"All because you refused to go back into the fucking tomb," Damon added, even though Elena's heartbeat was growing stronger by the second. He knew Katherine never felt guilty for any of the destruction she caused, but it was cathartic to throw as much blame at her as he could. "What the hell are you even doing here?"

Katherine had the decency to look slightly chagrined. "Stefan's trapped in there because of me, I needed to be here."

Scowling, Damon shook his head and returned his attention to Elena. Of course Katherine was there for his brother. Not because she felt a sense of guilt or responsibility over Elena fighting her battles for her, but because _Stefan _couldn't tie his goddamn shoes without Katherine there to remind him how.

"Did you give her your blood?" Katherine suddenly asked, moving closer to peer at Elena intently.

"What? No," Damon replied, looking at her aghast. "Why the hell would I have done that?"

Katherine lifted her gaze to his and he had all of a half second to register the surprise written in them before Elijah cleared his throat. The Original had turned his back on Klaus and looked at them now with a profound mixture of fury and regret. Turning his attention to Bonnie, he announced. "It's time."

* * *

><p>Elena returned to consciousness slowly, surfacing through layers of fog and an obnoxious pain in her head. It was throbbing in time with her pulse and more than anything she just wanted it to stop.<p>

She tried to move, but something held her still, preventing her from sitting up or moving her arms. Memories filtered through the haze, coming back to her in snippets: the tomb, Klaus and Stefan, the ritual… For a moment, she wondered if she was still chained in the tomb, but then she remembered Mia and her attempted escape.

_Did I make it?_

Elena wracked her brain for more memories, but it only made the pain in her head intensify. Something soft and gentle brushed against her cheek and she forced her eyelids open just enough to see the flash of silver as the candlelight reflected off of a ring.

Damon's ring.

_Damon…_

Elena knew in that instant that she'd made it out of the tomb. She couldn't remember how, but as she recognized the feeling of Damon's arms around her, holding her safe and secure against his chest, the details faded into insignificance. The pain in her head eased as she closed her eyes again and quit trying to force the memories.

Damon was there. That was all she needed to know.

"Did you give her your blood?" a sharp voice demanded, ruining Elena's peace.

"No!" Damon replied, his voice a low rumble in his chest beneath her ear as her sluggish brain identified the first speaker as Katherine. _What __is __she __doing __here?_ "Why the hell would I do that?"

_It__'__s __going __to __be __okay, __Damon_, Elena thought, trying to speak, trying to lift her hand to touch him, but her body wouldn't obey her commands. The darkness threatened to pull her under again as she lay serenely in his arms. Sleep sounded wonderful, sleeping in Damon's arms even better. She'd done her part, she'd fooled Klaus long enough to get him in the tomb, and now it was Bonnie and Elijah's turn. She was safe, Damon was safe and she could finally relax.

"Elena," Damon whispered, his lips brushing her forehead and making her shiver. His fingers were once again on her cheek, caressing her skin in slow, hypnotizing circles that made her feel even sleepier. "I need you to wake up."

Damon's voice was gentle as he tried to coax her back to wakefulness, but the fear beneath his plea soured the allure of sleep. Fighting her way back from the edge of slumber, Elena focused all of her strength on opening her eyes. She couldn't rest now, not when he was so worried about her.

"Damon," she whispered, wanting to say more as she forced her eyes all the way open. The candlelight sent a throbbing spike of pain straight to her brain. Squeezing her eyes shut, she turned her face into his chest, blindly groping for his hand. Groaning into the soft fabric of his shirt, she said. "My head hurts."

Elena felt Damon's relief as his grip on her hand became less desperate. Chuckling softly, he said. "I'm not surprised. You hit it pretty hard."

Taking a deep breath, she braced herself and opened her eyes again. Gradually turning her face away from his chest, she let her eyes grow accustomed to the light. When she could finally open them all the way, she looked up, meeting Damon's relieved gaze.

It was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen.

"Welcome back," he said, offering her one of his rare smiles unmarred by jaded cynicism. Elena grinned back even though it made the pain in her head worse.

"How long was I out?" she asked, her voice sounding rusty and unused.

"Forever," he replied, releasing her hand and softly touching her cheek as if she were something precious that might break and disappear at any second.

Elena raised a brow. "Forever?"

"Five…ten minutes tops, I guess," Damon amended, rolling his eyes as he huffed in annoyance. His hand stilled against her cheek as his gaze roamed over face. "It felt like forever."

Elena closed her eyes again and sighed. "But it was worth it. I tricked Klaus."

"Yeah, you did," he confirmed, waiting until she opened her eyes before continuing. "Bonnie's getting ready to cast the spell."

"Then it's almost over," she said, unable to stop the smile from tugging at her lips, despite what the expression did to her head.

A cloud darkened Damon's eyes and he hesitated a moment before offering her a strained grin. "It's almost over," he agreed as he took her hand and swallowed. "Elena…there's something I have to-."

"Oh my god, Mia!" Elena gasped as a sudden and vivid memory of Klaus grabbing the witch by the throat flashed across her mind's eye. She sat up far too quickly, earning a fresh and intense wave of pain that nearly knocked her out as a reward. Automatically bringing a hand to her head, she found something sticky and warm covering the right side of her face. Pulling her hand away, she was momentarily mesmerized by the glistening blood that coated her fingers.

"Careful," Damon warned, slowly easing her to a seated position against the wall. Lifting her chin with one finger, he met her alarmed gaze.

"What happened to me?" Elena asked, trying to keep the panic at bay. No longer wrapped in his arms, she got a better look at Damon and noticed the blood staining his shirt. Clutching at him frantically, she demanded. "Damon, who's blood is that?"

"It-it's yours," he explained, catching her hands and holding them in one of his own while he gripped her chin tighter. "Elena, it's okay. You got the cut when you hit your head, but it's already stopped bleeding. You're going to be okay, you hear me? You're going to be _fine._"

As if to emphasize that fact, her head throbbed again, echoing her pulse and reminding her that she was, in fact, alive. She hadn't died.

_I'm not going to become a vampire._

Expelling a shaky breath, she set aside the odd mixture of relief and disappointment that realization brought her for later and focused on the present. "O-okay, I'm…I'm okay. Where's Mia?"

"The witch?" he asked, glancing toward the tunnel entrance. "She didn't make it out."

Elena's stomach turned. "Is she?"

"Klaus…killed her," Damon explained, wincing slightly as tears filled her eyes.

"I remember Klaus grabbing her, but I don't…I can't," she stammered as her frustration grew. Damon had released her hands and she brought one of them to her forehead, massaging at the stubborn and insistent pulse of pain. "What happened?"

"I don't really know," he admitted before explaining the odd blast of Power that had lifted her from the ground and almost propelled her right out of the tunnel.

"It was Mia. She saved my life," Elena whispered, reaching into her pocket and retrieving the copper talisman the witch had given her before they had attempted their escape. Holding it in the palm of her hand, she showed it to Damon. "She wanted me to give this to Bonnie. She said that she'd know what to do with it."

Damon frowned, taking the flat disc from Elena and studying it in the dim candlelight. Without looking up, he called. "Bonnie!"

Tearing her gaze away from her spell preparations, a broad smile broke out across Bonnie's features when she saw Elena. Rushing to her side, Bonnie exclaimed happily. "You're awake! Are you okay? How do you feel?"

Before Elena could utter a word, Damon interrupted, holding the talisman out to Bonnie. "Klaus's witch wanted you to have this. Said you'd know what to do with it."

Bonnie frowned, taking the coin from his open palm. Rubbing her thumb over the worn markings, she asked. "Was this hers?"

"Yes," Elena nodded, glancing at Damon. "She said she wanted to help us."

He raised a brow skeptically. "Are you sure? She was working with Klaus."

"Mia knew Klaus was going to kill her when this was all over," Elena explained, absently taking Damon's hand. "She said if she helped us at least she'd die with a clear conscience."

"I hope that worked out for her," Damon muttered sarcastically, earning a pointed look from Elena.

"Dammit. I could have channeled her Power," Bonnie said sadly, looking pointedly at Damon as she added. "A Plan C."

"Plan C?" Elena repeated, frowning as she looked from one to the other and tightened her grip on Damon's hand. "What do you mean, Plan C? What are you talking about?"

"Are you sure it's gone?" Damon asked Bonnie, ignoring Elena's inquiries. "Completely?"

Taking a deep breath, Bonnie closed her eyes. For a few moments there was nothing but the sound of Klaus's desperate pleas for Elijah to remember the bonds of family. Elena looked toward the stairs that led to the surface where Elijah sat, his head bowed in defeat as he twirled the tip of the dagger in the dirt. Her giddy elation at their success thus far waned at the sight. They might defeat Klaus tonight, but for Elijah, it would be a hollow victory.

"There's nothing," Bonnie said, sighing as she opened her eyes. Elena was surprised at the actual compassion she saw in her friend's features as she addressed Damon. "I'm sorry. I should have thought of it sooner, but with Elena…I'm sorry, Damon."

"Don't worry about it, witch," Damon replied, smirking with exaggerated bravado as he shrugged. "Finish getting ready before Klaus breaks through that shield."

Elena waited until Bonnie had returned to the altar before turning to Damon. "What's going on? Why is Bonnie so sorry? And what's Plan C?"

"Elena, I…" Damon said, looking at her helplessly for a moment before dropping his gaze. A sense of dread was building inside of her and his struggle for words only intensified the feeling that there was something going on that she didn't know about. Something she wouldn't like.

"Damon, please," Elena begged, touching his face with bloodstained fingers. "Whatever it is, I can take it, I promise. You know I can. Don't lie to me."

He blew out a breath, speaking more to himself than her. "I thought as long as you were safe, I could do this."

"Do what?" Elena demanded as the dread mounted, tightening around her chest like a vise and making it hard to breath. "Do _what, _Damon?"

"The witches cut Bonnie off after she brought Jeremy back," Damon explained, lifting his pained gaze to hers. "She doesn't have enough Power to make Klaus vulnerable."

Elena stared at him in mute shock as she fought to make sense of his words. "So…what does that mean? We can't kill Klaus? Do we have to just keep him trapped in there forever? I thought Bonnie said that wasn't possible."

"It's not, but there is another way," Damon replied. "Bonnie needs more Power. If Mia hadn't died, they could have combined forces, but without another witch, there's only one way." He paused. "A sacrifice."

"A sacrifice? What kind of sacrifice? Damon, you're not making any sense. I don't…I don't…understand," Elena admitted, staring at him as he returned her gaze helplessly.

Closing his eyes briefly, he shook his head. "I volunteered."

Elena frowned, as her stubborn brain refused to comprehend the two simple words. _He __volunteered? __Volunteered __for __what? _she wondered, turning the phrase over and over in her head. Slowly, as she took in the grim set of Damon's mouth and the despair in his eyes, the pieces fell into place, finally locking at the same time that her heart broke.

"Damon, no," she uttered, taking his face in both hands as she shook her head violently. "No, you can't. You can't _volunteer _to die, I won't let you. There has to be another way."

"There isn't," he said.

"Yes, there is," she insisted with manic determination. Tears filled her eyes and her voice broke, but she ignored them. "There has to be. Bonnie will think of something."

"Elena, there isn't any time," he replied quietly, his gentle insistence destroying what little composure she had left. The tears that had been collecting in her eyes spilled through her lashes as she blindly groped for him. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she couldn't believe how good he felt, how solid and real. It flew in the face of his words as he spoke to her softly, but firmly. "I love you, Elena. And the only way I can do that the way you deserve is to let you go so you can have a normal life."

"I don't want a normal life," Elena declared, the silent tears building to body-wracking sobs. Lifting her head, she pressed her lips to his in a desperate kiss, not caring who was there to bear witness. Damon didn't respond immediately, but her persistence melted his resolve and when she finally felt his arms around her, felt his hand slide up her back so he could bury his fingers in her hair, the victory was bittersweet.

_This __isn__'__t __fair, _she despaired, tasting her own tears as she moved her mouth against his. Curling her fingers into fists, she kissed him hard and refused to believe it would be their last. She'd finally been brave enough to face the truths that both scared and exhilarated her and after everything they'd been through, everything they'd survived, she couldn't allow it to end like this. She was in love with Damon and even if she'd wanted to, there was no way to change that. Her future was with him.

She _belonged _with him.

Pulling away, Elena looked at Damon through lashes thick with tears, cursing herself for waiting so long to tell him something so simple. Something she should have told him ages ago. If she'd been brave enough to say it sooner, maybe he wouldn't have stupidly volunteered to sacrifice his life.

Taking his face in her hands, she made him look at her as a sense of calm and resolve replaced her hysteria. Holding his gaze, she said what was in her heart, what had always been there, through everything.

"I want _you_, Damon. I love you."


	29. Vitas Mortis

_AN: Welp, that 'll learn me to make any kind of promises/predictions regarding my posting schedule. I am very sorry this took so long. The holidays completely derailed my plans and I totally left you all hanging. Thank you so much for the overwhelming response to the last chapter. I say this a lot, but you really blew me away. I hope this chapter continues to live up to expectations. Enjoy!_

Chapter Twenty-Nine - Vitas Mortis

Caroline fell to her knees clutching the still beating heart of the final hybrid. She'd lost track of her body count and discovered, as she tossed the heart aside, that she was too tired to care. _Let Katherine win, _she thought. The older vampire had been far more invested in their little contest anyway.

"That's _got _to be the last of them," Tyler grumbled, sinking to the ground beside her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"I hope so," Caroline admitted, leaning into him and offering him a tired smile.

"We'll know soon enough," Alaric said, scanning the trees for any signs of movement. Katherine's prediction of a massacre hadn't been far off. They were all covered in blood and the entire clearing was littered with fallen bodies. Had she not been so exhausted, Caroline would have rejoiced at the fact that they had all made it out of there in one piece.

"Where's Jeremy?" Tyler asked, looking around.

"He was with Katherine," Caroline supplied, shaking her head to keep the fatigue at bay. "On the other side of the clearing."

Tyler glanced over his shoulder toward the other half of the battlefield. "Then…where are they?"

Caroline's heart sank as a sick feeling of foreboding twisted in her stomach. Meeting Alaric's eye, she saw the same suspicion reflected in his gaze. The vampire hunter dropped the silver machete and took off at a sprint before Caroline could scramble to her feet.

"Jeremy!" Alaric called, racing past the bodies of dead hybrids toward the place they'd last seen him and Katherine fighting. Spurred by adrenaline and fighting panic, Caroline followed with Tyler right on her heels.

"Jeremy," she screamed into the night, searching the shadows for some sign of the boy. _Maybe he's just hurt, _she thought, but the reassurance rang hollow and she knew what they would find even before Alaric dropped to his knees in the middle of a cache of bodies.

Jeremy was lying face down in the grass, four distinct claw marks slashing a ragged line across his back. His blue t-shirt had turned black from the blood that had seeped from his wounds and, for the first time since she'd become a vampire, Caroline nearly gagged from the sight and smell of it.

Kneeling on the ground near Jeremy's head, she reached out as if to touch him, but drew her hand back at the last second. Swallowing, she looked at Alaric as Tyler sank to his knees on the other side of his fallen friend. "What are we going to tell Elena? Or Bonnie? This wasn't supposed to happen."

Alaric looked at her grimly. "We all knew the risks."

Caroline gaped. "That's it? That's all you're going to say? Jeremy was your family, how can you-."

"Guys, hold it," Tyler interrupted, silencing them both as he gently rolled the fallen boy over. The claw marks on his back seemed to be Jeremy's only wounds. Caroline felt her eyes burn with tears as she took in how peaceful he looked, like he was merely sleeping.

Tyler lifted up Jeremy's right hand, allowing something silver to catch the moonlight. "Jeremy can tell Bonnie and Elena all about this himself. When he wakes up."

"Wakes up?" Caroline repeated dumbly before understanding dawned. Bringing a hand to her mouth she gasped. "The ring. Oh, my god, I completely forgot."

"Good thing Jeremy didn't," Tyler quipped, chuckling with relief as Caroline and Alaric hoisted the boy off the ground so Tyler could carry him over his shoulder and back to the SUV. Ten whole minutes had passed without a sign of a single hybrid, but Caroline scanned the tree line nervously, searching for any hint of a possible attack.

"How do you think the others are doing?" Caroline asked as Tyler and Alaric laid Jeremy across the bench seat in the SUV. "Maybe we should go see if they need our help."

"We're not done here," Alaric replied, making sure Jeremy was as comfortable as they could make him before closing the door of the SUV.

"What do you mean?" Tyler asked.

Looking around the clearing, Alaric gestured toward the carnage. "We have to take care of the bodies."

* * *

><p>Leaning against the wall to the right of the tunnel entrance, Katherine slid to the hard packed ground and wracked her brain for a way to get Stefan out of the tomb before Klaus lost his temper and killed him. Elena's return to the land of the living had rendered Damon useless, and even though she was obviously fine, he was blind to the rest of the world while he fawned over her.<p>

"How long was I out?" Elena asked, her voice little more than a whisper as Katherine blatantly eavesdropped on their conversation.

"Forever," he groused, touching her cheek reverently, as if she were some kind of porcelain doll that might shatter in a strong wind.

"Forever?"

"Five…ten minutes tops, I guess," Damon amended, rolling his eyes as he huffed in annoyance. His hand stilled against her cheek as his gaze roamed over face. "It felt like forever."

Katherine wanted to gag as she watched the sickeningly sweet moment, but she was unable to quiet the pathetic voice within her that fervently wished for someone to look at her with the same kind of quiet awe with which Damon was looking at Elena. It was the voice of her humanity – Katerina's voice –which, she was coming to understand, wasn't nearly as dead as she had once believed.

"I never thought you would be this stupid, Katerina," Klaus said, his voice slithering down Katherine's spine and making her shiver. Forgetting Damon and Elena, she craned her neck to look into the face of the vampire who'd dominated her entire five-hundred year existence. Facing her and leaning casually against the stone wall, Klaus appeared benign, but Katherine hadn't survived five centuries by letting appearances fool her. Shifting slightly, she put some distance between herself and the shielded tomb entrance. The Original watched her, a bemused grin on his lips. "Purposely aligning yourself with this group of hapless creatures? I am actually disappointed."

Katherine leaned back on her hands and lifted her chin as she raised a brow. "You got yourself stuck in the tomb and I'm the stupid one?"

Chuckling, he crouched down to her eye level and trailed his fingertips down the invisible barrier. "You are still my favorite. She has your spirit, Liliana."

Katherine narrowed her eyes, following Klaus's line of sight and glancing over her shoulder to the empty corner of the tomb nearest the stairs. "Your sister's still here?"

"She is _always _here," Klaus groaned, pressing his back against the tunnel wall and sliding down to the ground. Gesturing vaguely toward the open cavern, he added. "Morning…night…she even haunts me in my sleep. All I want is to be rid of her."

"I guess you shouldn't have killed your witch then," Katherine flippantly pointed out. Klaus's entire body tensed as he lifted his head and pinned her with his piercing gaze.

"Perhaps," he said quietly, cocking his head as he considered her. "Then again, perhaps not."

She was used to his threats, but something in his tone awakened the dread within her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I am not without leverage, am I?" he said, partly to himself as if he was just discovering a hidden truth. His lips split into a hideous grin, sending a spike of fear straight to her heart. "I still have Stefan."

Katherine's eyes widened and her throat closed as she looked past Klaus into the heart of the tomb. Stefan was still lying unconscious on the pile of rubble, vulnerable to the Original and out of her reach. Trying to keep the panic at bay, she swallowed and calmly demanded. "Let him go."

"Let him go?" Klaus repeated, laughing loudly and drawing the momentary attention of Elijah and Bonnie. "Why on earth would I do that?"

"Because he's of no use to you," Katherine said quickly, knowing the lie would only anger Klaus, but forced to try. "They all hate him now, even Damon. He nearly killed Elena. They won't think twice about letting him die."

"Perhaps not," Klaus admitted, nodding thoughtfully. Katherine could almost see the gears turning in his head as he grinned at her. "But something tells me you do not share their disdain."

Her panic rose, but instead of digging the hole deeper, she shrugged and defiantly held his gaze as she tried to convince herself that there was a contingency plan for Stefan, that Damon wouldn't allow his brother to die.

"In fact," Klaus continued, tilting his head and smiling wider as he warmed to his new theory. "I believe you would do anything to see that Stefan Salvatore survives."

As the obvious trap opened up before Katherine, she made one last ditch effort to forcibly remove Stefan from her heart and soul. He would never belong to her – never love her – the way she belonged to and loved him. Eventually, as he had so many times before, he'd return to the animal blood and his feelings for Elena would fight their way to the surface along with his humanity. As much as it rankled her, Katherine knew she was no match for the virtuous and perfect girl. The harder she tried to turn Stefan away from her doppelganger, the more he'd seek her out. The humiliation of _knowing _that fact was bad enough, and Katherine refused to scramble for random scraps of affection from a vampire a third of her age.

Stefan wasn't worth it. _No one _was worth it. Katherine Pierce had too much pride.

A burst of confidence flared within her as she opened her mouth, ready with a caustic denial and a haughty invitation for Klaus to do his worst before she made the mistake of looking down the tunnel once more.

A low groan emanated from within the tomb as Stefan moved slightly. He didn't seem to be entirely conscious, but he was coming around and it was enough to ruin her. Katherine Pierce wasn't in control anymore. The remnants of Katerina Petrova had awakened, feasting on the human connection between her and Stefan and she would not be silenced. Utterly defeated, Katherine whispered. "What do you want?"

"I want my doppelganger back," Klaus said, dropping all pretense of negotiation. "You, Elena, it matters little. I want the doppelganger and your witch so I can complete my ritual and be free of my sister."

"Liliana is gone, Klaus," Katherine insisted. "She's been gone for a long time. She was never even really-."

"The doppelganger and the witch for Stefan's life," Klaus said, ignoring her attempt at reason. Katherine's blood turned to ice as she stared in mute horror at the other vampire. She'd been expecting him to ask her to force Bonnie to drop the shield and allow him to walk free or some other similar betrayal. However, handing over Bonnie, never mind _Elena, _to Klaus was suicide. Damon would rip her apart before Stefan could even make it out of the tunnel to say goodbye.

Mistaking her silence for refusal, Klaus shrugged. "Very well. Most vampires think they are invincible, but really all it takes is a well placed blow to the head or the removal of the heart to bring-."

"I'll get you the doppelganger," Katherine promised, agreeing to his terms with blind desperation. "I swear, just don't…don't hurt Stefan."

"See that you do," he replied, rising to his feet and stalking toward the back of the tomb.

Katherine stared at the spot Klaus had just vacated as her head spun and she wrestled with the fact that she'd just agreed to hand over Elena and Bonnie in exchange for Stefan. In the abstract, the terms were acceptable. The witch meant nothing to her and while she occasionally found herself admiring the human girl's stubborn determination and naïve bravery, Katherine had been fulfilling the role of Petrova Doppelganger with aplomb for five hundred years. The world only needed one. When it came down to Elena's life or Stefan's (or even Damon's, for that matter) Katherine would choose the vampire without qualm.

The details, however, turned the deal into a nightmare.

Slowly, Katherine rose and stood in front of the tunnel, surveying the room as she tried to formulate a plan around the exponentially growing fear in her heart. She could handle Damon, but Elijah was another story. For a few moments, she watched him confer with Bonnie over the ritual, oblivious to anything or anybody else. She envisioned grabbing Bonnie by the hair and simply throwing her down through the shield. Maybe by some miracle Elena would escape from Damon's careful vigilance and run after her best friend without thinking.

She glanced to her right just as Elena kissed Damon. Tears ran down the human girl's cheeks as she frantically clung to him and Katherine noted the exact moment Damon surrendered, giving into the kiss completely.

Months ago, on Founder's Day, when she'd seen Damon Salvatore again for the first time since 1864, she'd marveled at how much he'd changed. The years had transformed the naïve romantic who'd worshiped her into a cynical vampire. Notorious in his own right, she'd heard of his exploits over the decades, but until she'd actually _seen _him, Katherine hadn't believed it.

When he'd begun speaking to 'Elena', however, she'd realized that the more things changed, the more they really did stay the same. Damon had given his heart to this new doppelganger along with his thanks and while Katherine had always favored Stefan, Damon's defection had wounded her pride. After announcing her return to the denizens of Mystic Falls, she'd taken great satisfaction in using her presence to rub salt in Damon's old wounds. Taunting Elena with his love for her as well as the idea that deep down, the human girl returned the elder Salvatore's affections had been the icing on the cake of her revenge.

Still, Katherine wasn't prepared for what Elena said next.

Breaking the kiss, Elena took Damon's face in her hands. Her cheeks were still wet with tears, but when she spoke her voice was remarkably calm. "I want you, Damon. I love you."

Katherine's heart sank as she watched Damon's shock and disbelief turn into hope and elation while Elena's words sunk in. The certain knowledge that Stefan was going to die fell like a rock to the pit of her stomach. The slim chance she'd had of meeting Klaus's ridiculous demands had vanished the second Elena told Damon she loved him. There was no way he'd leave her unprotected now and in Katherine's experience the only thing that trumped age when it came to a vampire's strength was passion.

She doubted her one-sided love for Stefan could rival the strength Elena's love would give to Damon.

"Elena," Damon began before Katherine tuned him out. She didn't want to hear how much he loved her, how he could never go through with the sacrifice knowing that he'd be giving up his chance to be with her. _Jesus, Elena's even willing to turn, _Katherine thought as bitterness rose like bile in her throat and nearly choked her. _How fucking perfect is that? _

"I'm ready," Bonnie announced, sharpening Katherine's wallowing and despair into a hard knot of anxiety. Opening her eyes, she noted six candles on the ground in the center of the outer cavern, arrayed in what looked to her like a random pattern around a small assortment of colored crystals. The white oak dagger she'd pulled from Elijah was at the apex of the arrangement, pointing toward the tunnel.

"Bonnie, no," Elena cried, desperately appealing to the witch. "You can't do this. Please, I need him."

"Elena, stop," Damon insisted, extricating himself from her grasp. "You'll be okay, I promise."

Kissing her once more before rising to his feet, Damon resolutely approached Bonnie. The witch glanced at him, then back to Elijah before closing her eyes and beginning to chant. Katherine listened to the words, recognizing bits and pieces of spells she'd heard during the past five centuries in her many dealings with witches.

"What is this?" Klaus demanded, drawn to the mouth of the tunnel by the commotion in the outer cavern. Katherine said nothing as he took in the room, his suspicious gaze settling on Bonnie and the array of candles before moving on to Elena. Finally, he glared at Katherine as he hissed. "We had a deal."

Katherine had nothing to offer in her defense and Klaus snarled at the silence, turning around and stalking down the tunnel only to return a moment later dragging a barely conscious Stefan by the throat. Her gaze went to him automatically, taking in the cuts and bruises marring his face. Despite the fact that they'd heal perfectly, the sight of him weak and helpless filled her eyes with tears. Two slipped down her cheeks - the first in years that meant anything real. Something deep within Katherine came loose, cutting a jagged and raw trail across her heart.

"What is your brother's life worth to you?" Klaus demanded, addressing Damon. "Unless you want his blood on your hands, you will stop your witch from finishing her useless little spell."

Damon looked at the Original, expertly masking whatever emotion he may have been feeling with a smirk and an indifferent shrug. "I've been meaning to kill Stefan for years. Feel free."

The white oak dagger on the floor in front of the witch began to glow with an iridescent light, momentarily capturing Klaus's attention. Katherine ignored everything but Stefan as her heart broke at the sight of his still face. He was alive, but his eyes were closed as he hung helplessly in Klaus's arms.

The exhausting rollercoaster of emotion – of humanity – that she'd been riding for the past few weeks came to an abrupt stop. Closing her eyes, she reeled under the certainty of the loss of the one person she'd ever loved and the poetic irony of the fact that she deserved it. One hundred and fifty years ago, she'd toyed with the Salvatore brothers, destroying their relationship and their lives for no other reason than that she had enjoyed having both boys worship at her feet. Now, the tables had turned, she'd lost them both and whether Stefan lived to return to Elena or died at Klaus's hands, Katherine would be left with nothing but her immortal life. All of her instincts, that had enabled her to exist for five-hundred years with the sword of Damocles hanging over her head, had vanished the instant she'd seen Stefan in the cemetery in Charleston.

And as much as she needed them now, they weren't coming back. All that was left was a damned eternity.

_Eternity_.

_Alone_.

"Use me," she murmured as the pain of it all, of living even one more day as she had before, crippled her. Bonnie continued chanting as she whirled around and dropped to her knees in front of the tunnel, placing herself between Klaus and the glowing dagger. "I'll do it, Bonnie, just…just hurry."

The witch continued chanting without missing a beat, but Damon reacted immediately. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I'll be the sacrifice," Katherine repeated, ignoring Damon's incredulous stare as a blissful euphoria spread through her. At least in death she'd be free of the debilitating longing.

"Are you out of your mind?" Damon argued, grabbing her arm and hauling her to her feet. Eyeing her suspiciously, he demanded. "What's your agenda, Katherine? This isn't the time for any of your games."

"There's no _game,_" she swore, yanking her arm from his grasp and glaring at him. She floundered for an excuse, a spark of pride refusing to allow her to tell Damon that his words had changed her, had broken a fundamental part of her survival instinct and that she couldn't face eternity alone, nor could she compete with Saint Elena for Stefan's affections. "The witch needs Power, right? Well I'm about three hundred and fifty years more Powerful than you, so for once accept the fact that we might both be on the same team. Or are you looking for a reason to leave Elena already?"

Damon recoiled at the mention of Elena's name, softening the determined set of his jaw and the suspicion in his eyes. He swallowed, lowering his gaze and Katherine nodded. "I didn't think so," she said softly, returning to her knees before the witch. With manic determination, she lifted her chin and announced. "I'm ready."

Ignoring Katherine _and _Damon, Bonnie continued her chanting and reached for the dagger through the maze of dancing flames. Closing her hand around the bright, white hilt, the cavern was immediately filled with the scent of burning flesh. Sweat broke out on Bonnie's brow, but she didn't flinch.

"Bonnie," Elena said, climbing to her feet and standing beside Damon. She glanced at him before looking back at the witch, unsure whether or not to interfere.

Wrapping her other hand around the hilt, Bonnie held the dagger over the candles. The words of the spell continued to fall from her lips, filling the cavern. Katherine closed her eyes, preparing for the inevitable searing pain and descent into final oblivion.

_Hang on, Stefan, _Katherine prayed silently as the sounds of the fight drew closer. _It's almost over. _

* * *

><p>Damon needed more time and he wasn't going to get it.<p>

Bonnie's chanting grew louder, reverberating throughout the tomb as he stared at Katherine. He never would have thought anything could have shocked him as much as Elena's confession of love, but Katherine's sudden insistence on sacrificing herself had come close.

Damon had entered the tomb with a crystal clear understanding of his place in the world he'd been about to leave. As everybody's second choice – or in some cases, no choice at all – he'd expected disappointment and heartache, even if he'd never really figured out how to deal with it. He'd expected little more than a token protest from the people he'd be dying to save.

A small hand crept into his, closing around his fingers with a firm grip that weakened his already shaky resolve to go through with the sacrifice. Elena rested her head against his shoulder as she possessively wrapped her other hand around his arm. She didn't look at him, didn't speak, but the message was clear.

He was hers.

Damon didn't understand it, barely believed it, but there she was, holding on to him like she never planned on letting go.

And Katherine…

The woman he'd wasted most of his life loving was kneeling on the floor, listening intently to Bonnie's spell. Damon was under no delusions that Katherine cared if he lived or died. She was doing this to save Stefan, plain and simple. Whether it was because she didn't believe Damon would go through with it or because she'd been working another plan all along, he didn't know and there was no time to figure it out.

_What. The. Fuck?_

Commotion in the tunnel caught his attention as Stefan regained consciousness enough to begin struggling with Klaus. After Elena's, Stefan's role had always been the most dangerous. They'd known that at some point Klaus would catch on to the plan and Stefan had been prepared for the inevitable moment when the Original would turn on him.

The goal, however, had always been to get Stefan out alive.

Damon arranged his features into a neutral mask as Klaus used his superior strength to hold Stefan immobile. Shaking Stefan like a ragdoll, Klaus vowed. "I will kill him."

"No," Katherine whispered, glancing over her shoulder before looking helplessly at Damon. "Damon."

"What?" he demanded in exasperation.

"This was always part of the plan, Katherine," Stefan murmured, coughing up blood even as his wounds began to heal during the brief respite from the fighting.

Klaus snarled angrily at Elijah. "You would do this to your own brother?"

"_You _have done it to _me_," Elijah replied, barely acknowledging him as he knelt beside Bonnie. Openly curious, he studied the glowing weapon clenched in her hands. "Our time has passed, Klaus."

Damon frowned at the Original's choice of words, but before he had a chance to consider them, Bonnie fell silent. All eyes in the tomb turned to her as she stared into space. In a trance, she held the glowing dagger before her, oblivious to the faint sizzling of her flesh as it burned.

Damon stilled.

It was time.

Neither he nor Bonnie had been anxious to discuss the details of his impending death, so he didn't know what to expect. Would it be quick and painless or would the ritual demand it be long and drawn out? Closing his eyes, he muttered. "Shit."

"Damon?" Elena whispered, looking up at him as she tightened her already impressive grip on his hand.

"Elena, it's…," he began, glancing down at her. Her lashes were still wet with tears and it broke him to hurt her further. "I'm sorry. I have to do this."

Shaking her head, she argued. "But Katherine…"

Before he could argue that he didn't trust Katherine – that she would never go through with a plan to end her own life – Damon heard the plunge of the dagger sinking into flesh.

_I always thought death would be more painful. _

But the awful groan and sucking gasp of a dying vampire breathing its last wasn't his.

It wasn't Katherine's.

Bonnie released the dagger protruding from Elijah's chest and sank back onto her heels as they watched in stunned silence. The ancient vampire clutched at the handle, holding it in as he seemed to welcome oblivion, rather than run from it. At the mouth of the tunnel, Klaus gaped in silent horror, forgetting Stefan entirely. Elijah's skin went grey as his veins rose to the surface of his flesh and turned black. His breath rattled in his lungs as he pinned Damon with his dying gaze.

"Don't waste it," he choked, moving his lips to say more, but the dagger was doing its work. Elijah's eyes clouded over and became vacant. He toppled over as the strength that had been keeping him on his knees failed. The all-powerful Original that had inspired such fear and mistrust in those of his kind breathed his last in the dirt and dust of an old church basement.

"What the hell?" Katherine uttered weakly, pulling Damon's attention from the lifeless body. Her face was wet with tears and her features were fixed in an expression of legitimate shock. _Well, that's two points for Bonnie, _he thought, wondering if he was in shock himself. She'd offed an Original _and _had managed to surprise Katherine.

Elijah's final gasp spurred Bonnie to action. The flames from the candles shot up six inches as she tossed a handful of black powder into their midst. Using a different, older language that Damon had never heard before, she began chanting again. In a matter of seconds, the temperature in the cavern shot up ten degrees as a strange, dry wind began to emanate from the center of the circle of candles.

"No," Klaus said quietly, as the wind intensified, kicking up a century's worth of dirt and sand from the cavern floor. His seething gaze lifted from his dead brother and fixed on Damon and Elena. Although the shield was still raised, Damon automatically maneuvered her behind his body. Pointing a trembling hand at Elijah, Klaus hissed. "The dagger will not work on me."

_Yeah, no shit, _Damon thought, unwilling to give Klaus the satisfaction of knowing he had no fucking clue how Elijah had planned to kill him. _What the hell am I supposed to do now?_

Klaus's anguish became wild desperation as he remembered Stefan. Pinning him by the throat to the wall of the tunnel, he pulled back his hand. Snarling gleefully at Damon, he threatened. "Let me go or I will rip out his heart."

"Stefan," Katherine cried, scrambling to her feet and lurching toward the entrance of the tomb. Damon caught the nearly imperceptible shake of his brother's head, a warning not to fall for Klaus's tricks, to see the plan through.

Except Damon still didn't know what the fuck the plan was anymore.

Suddenly, Klaus cried out in surprise and pain as his knees buckled and he sagged toward the floor. The words of the spell continued to echo throughout the cavern as the wind blew harder. Squinting against the dirt that threatened to blind him, Damon looked down at Bonnie, shocked to see her bleeding from her eyes as well as her nose. She was leaning over the array of candles, oblivious to the flames as she focused all her concentration on the spell.

"Bonnie!" Elena cried, letting go of Damon's hand and crouching beside her friend. She tried to pull the witch back, but Bonnie shrugged her off. Klaus cried out again, stumbling away from the mouth of the tomb. With more strength than anyone expected, Stefan took off after him, disappearing around the curve in the tunnel.

"Klaus is vulnerable, Damon. Go," Bonnie said, her voice a hoarse whisper as she looked at him through red rimmed eyes.

"And do _what_?" he demanded as Bonnie finally allowed Elena to wrap an arm around her in support. "I don't know how to fucking kill Klaus, I was planning on being dead for this."

"His heart," Bonnie explained, managing to sound irritated even as she strained with the effort and demands of the spell. "At the sacrifice, Elijah was going to rip out his heart. He may be an Original…but he still needs it."

"Damon!" Stefan roared urgently from within the tomb, pulling Damon from his indecision.

"Stay here in case the hybrids show up," he ordered Katherine, shoving her out of the way just as she was about to charge down the tunnel herself. For once, she didn't argue and Damon hesitated for only a fraction of a second before crossing the invisible barrier and running down the tunnel.

The inner tomb was a disaster, a single candle on the far wall the only surviving illumination. At first Damon could only hear Stefan and Klaus's struggle, but then he found them amidst the rubble of two stone benches. Vulnerable did not equal weak and Klaus was still holding his own as they grappled on the floor, fighting for any kind of advantage. Stefan had wrenched the iron chains from the wall and was attempting to loop them around Klaus's neck.

"What the _hell _are you waiting for?" Stefan demanded as Klaus pinned him to the sharp edged rocks.

"He cannot do it," Klaus insisted, casting a half crazed glance over his shoulder before turning back to the other man. "He is weak, Stefan. Listen to me. Listen. We made a good team. We had fun. It does not have to end like this."

A wave of hatred and bloodlust surged within Damon for all the fear and heartache Klaus had caused the people he cared about. He felt the heat as the veins around his eyes filled with blood and rose to the surface of his skin and his fangs descended. Blurring across the room, Klaus howled in agony as Damon plunged his hand into his back. Bonnie had done her job. Klaus was as vulnerable as any other vampire. Wrapping his fingers around the delicate bones of the Original's spine, Damon hauled him to his feet.

"You would be dead if not for me," Klaus cried, clutching at the arm Damon looped around his neck. The fear in his voice satisfied Damon on a primal level. He flexed his fingers, making Klaus writhe in further pain as Stefan coughed and rolled off of the jagged rocks. "I saved your life."

The irony made Damon smile as he shrugged and said. "Thanks for that."

With a vicious twist of his wrist, Damon snapped Klaus's spine, bringing the Original to his knees in a roar of unbridled agony. A dozen parting shots raced through Damon's mind as he prepared to end Klaus's life. Words for Elena and Jenna, for Stefan– something for Klaus to carry with him to the other side or wherever the hell he'd go when he finally left this plane of existence. Damon wanted Klaus to know exactly why he was dying.

There were no _words, _however,that could do justice to how Damon had felt when he'd picked up Elena's lifeless body after the sacrifice, or what it had done to him knowing that Stefan had traded his sanity to save his life.

_Stefan…_

His brother was looking at the Original with a hatred that mirrored his own, making Damon realize that Stefan might need this victory more than him.

"Stefan," Damon said, catching his brother's attention. Pain had rendered Klaus docile for the moment, but their time was running out. A broken spine wouldn't keep the Original down for long if the spell broke before they could kill him. Stefan lifted his head and met Damon's gaze. "Why don't you do the honors?"

"What?" Klaus gasped, Damon's intention registering through the haze.

Stefan's lips slowly curved into a dangerous grin as he seemed to recover more quickly from his wounds. Making his way over the broken chunks of rock, he gripped Klaus's upper arm.

"Wait, Stefan-," the Original cried.

"I don't think so," Stefan sneered, thrusting his hand into Klaus's chest and ripping his heart from his body. Klaus sucked in a final lungful of air, choking as the light faded from his eyes. Within seconds, the Original's body went slack and the tomb fell silent save for the irregular drip of blood from the heart Stefan clutched in his hands.

Damon looked at his brother in silent amazement and held his breath, hardly daring to believe that they'd really done it.

But they had.

"Goodbye Klaus," Stefan muttered tossing the heart aside as Damon pulled his hand from the Original's back and allowed the body to fall over in a graceless heap. Damon had never shared Katherine's awe of Klaus, but it had been impossible to be in the same room with him and _not _feel the weight and power of his years. Seeing him reduced to little more than a bag of bones lying in the dirt was incredibly…

…_fucking _satisfying.

Rising to his feet, Damon took a moment to commit the image of Klaus's broken body to memory. This was one kill he'd savor for his entire immortal life. Then, holding out a hand to Stefan, he hauled his brother up off the ground. "Let's go."


	30. Home On the Remains

_AN: Once again, I apologize for taking so long to post. It probably would have been posted last week. I'm not sure if you noticed, but Damon and Elena kissed on Thursday. My beta and I have been lost in a fangirl haze and have finally come up for air and stopped squeeing. This chapter will probably be a bit of a letdown after Thursday, but...how the hell am I supposed to compete with THAT? LOL_

_Again, I thank you for the incredible response to the last chapter. This puny little fanfic writer thinks you're awesome. ;p_

Chapter Thirty – Home on the Remains

Jeremy returned slowly to consciousness, becoming aware of a soft mattress and warm sheets as his brain sifted through violent visions of bloodshed. Memories returned to him in pieces, lacking cohesion, but by the time he pried his eyes open and found himself in his room, looking into the anxious faces of Bonnie, Alaric and Elena, he remembered the hybrid fight.

He also remembered that he hadn't done a very good job of following Alaric's advice.

Covering his light-sensitive eyes with a hand, he groaned in embarrassment. "I got dead, didn't I?"

"How do you feel?" Bonnie asked, scooting closer to him on the mattress and squeezing his hand. Jeremy peeked at her through his fingers, letting his eyes adjust to the soft light of his desk lamp.

"Weird," he said, pushing himself to a seated position and leaning against the pillows. His back was tender, calling to mind the searing pain where the hybrid's claws had ripped through his skin, but the discomfort was minor considering that the wound had killed him. The most disconcerting aspect of the eternity ring wasn't the left over soreness associated with the supernatural healing, but the way it left him feeling disconnected. A wave of vertigo swept over him and he squeezed his eyes shut again until it passed. Experience told him that the feeling was normal, that it would only be a few hours before his body felt like his own.

Opening his eyes, he found Bonnie gazing at him anxiously, and for the first time he noted how exhausted she looked. "I'm okay though," he promised, offering her a smile before turning to Alaric and Elena. "What happened?"

"To you, or with everybody?" Alaric asked, pushing away from the dresser he'd been leaning against and stepping into the light.

"Damn, how are you still standing?" Jeremy demanded, taking in Alaric's haggard appearance and ripped and bloodied clothes.

"Sheer will," he shrugged, offering Jeremy a tired smile. "And necessity. Someone had to pick up your slack."

"Yeah, sorry about that," Jeremy said sheepishly. "Katherine totally bailed on me."

"Figures," Elena snorted derisively from his desk chair. The lamp illuminated her from behind, hiding her face in shadow, but it was clear from her dusty and torn clothing that she hadn't escaped unscathed either.

"No worries," Alaric shrugged, crossing his arms and wincing where they pulled at the healing cuts on his arm. "Having to cart your ass up here got me out of body duty, so really, I should thank you."

Jeremy's stomach twisted with dread as he realized that over half of their party wasn't in his room. Not that he'd expected Stefan and Damon to hold a vigil for him, but their absence had suddenly become suspicious. Glancing at Elena, he asked. "Bodies?"

"Hybrids," Elena replied, her voice shaking slightly as she ran a hand through her hair and stared at the floor. "And…Klaus and Elijah."

"_Elijah_?" Jeremy repeated, barely registering the fact that Klaus was dead – that they'd succeeded – in light of the surprising revelation. "How did _Elijah_ die?"

"It's…a long story," Bonnie explained, shooting a wary glance at his sister as he picked up on the tension between them for the first time.

"I'm glad you're okay, Jeremy," Elena said, standing quickly and making her way toward the door without so much as a backwards glance. "I'm going to go take a shower…and wash the Katherine off."

"Elena, wait," Bonnie called after her, but Elena continued on as if she hadn't heard. Jeremy knew his sister well enough to allow her to leave without question, but one look at his girlfriend's crestfallen face made his temper spark with irritation.

"What the hell is her problem?" he demanded.

"It's…it's nothing," Bonnie said, gazing at her hands for a moment before turning to him with an apologetic smile. "Jeremy, as long as you're okay, I need to…go back to the tomb. There's something I have to take care of."

"I'll come with you," he offered, sitting up too quickly and immediately regretting it as the room started to spin.

"I think you'd better stay here," Bonnie suggested, gently pushing him back against the pillows. She kissed him before promising. "I'll be okay."

Grudgingly, Jeremy watched her retreating figure as she left his room and turned toward the stairs. In his current state he knew he'd be next to useless, but it still rankled to watch her leave while he laid there pathetically in his room.

"Elena's not mad at you," Alaric assured him, succumbing to exhaustion and sinking to the mattress at the foot of the bed. "She's just…not real happy with Bonnie and Damon right now. It's…complicated."

"And a long story, I heard," Jeremy finished for him, dragging a hand over his face and shaking his head. Leave it to Elena to _win _a fight against an all-powerful, impossible-to-kill Original and still find something to be upset about. Sighing, he asked. "Does anybody want us dead at the moment?"

Alaric frowned and shook his head. "No."

"Then I've got time," Jeremy replied, settling more comfortably against the pillows. "Tell me what I missed."

* * *

><p>Wearily, Damon descended the staircase into the tomb, carrying a dead – and headless – hybrid under each arm. Before he'd conveniently left to sit vigil over Jeremy, Alaric had suggested the admittedly brilliant plan of putting all the hybrids in the tomb, lining it with explosives and blowing it to kingdom come. Given the fact that Damon hadn't been entirely convinced Klaus was dead – he'd half expected him to rise from the ashes like some sort of horror movie villain – he'd been all for any plan that involved burying the Original beneath a thousand tons of stone.<p>

Unfortunately, he hadn't considered the logistics. Most of the hybrids had fallen more than five hundred yards from the tomb. The distance, combined with the narrow staircase and corridor, had made for so many repetitive and tedious trips that he'd lost count of the number of times he'd traversed the path.

Operating now on autopilot, he made his way down the tunnel and tossed the bodies on a steadily growing pile. Covered in blood – miraculously, none of it his own – he stood in the middle of the tomb and surveyed the carnage. Somewhere beneath the mass of hybrids lay Klaus's body. It still didn't make sense that a being so powerful and old could be stopped by a seventeen-year-old witch and a couple of comparatively young vampires.

Of course, they hadn't done it without help.

Elijah's body lay on the floor on the opposite side of the tunnel where Damon and Stefan had placed carefully placed him after Klaus had been defeated. Damon cringed at the cliché, but aside from the grey skin, black veins and white oak dagger protruding from his chest, Elijah looked like he was sleeping, his expression peaceful.

"_Don't waste it."_

The phrase had been echoing in his head ever since he'd made it out of the tomb. "What the fuck does that even mean?" Damon muttered irritably, crouching beside the body and mulling over the powerful implication in those three words. _He _was supposed to be lying dead on the floor, not Elijah. Damon wasn't disappointed to be alive, but he was getting tired of adding to the ever growing list of people who'd saved his life.

Elijah had given him more time and Damon didn't know what to do with it. For the first time in a long time he wasn't sure what would happen next. For one hundred and forty-five years he'd lived to set Katherine free. For the past year, he'd lived to keep Elena alive. Suddenly, there was no goal to work toward, no enemy to vanquish. There was only _tomorrow _and all its uncharted potential.

Damon wasn't sure if that daunting promise was a blessing or a curse.

Cocking his head, he stared at Elijah, focusing on the dagger jutting out of his chest. For a human, Bonnie had done an impressive job of burying the blade all the way to the hilt. Moved by an unknown impulse, Damon wrapped his fingers around the handle and hesitated a moment before yanking it out.

Minutes passed as Damon watched Elijah carefully for any sign of life. Nothing happened. Slowly, he rose to his feet, ignoring the hybrid bodies as he paced the tomb and turned the deceptively plain weapon over in his hands. Every few seconds, his gaze slid back to Elijah and it took four times of repeating the pattern before Damon realized that a part of him was waiting for the Original to wake up.

Shaking his head, he made his way back to the body and leaned against the wall of the cave. Sighing, he slid to the ground, twirling the point of the dagger against the palm of his hand as he murmured aloud. "Why did you do it?"

_That _was the question that had been bothering him the most. Why did Elijah sacrifice his own life? Damon understood how his feelings for Elena and the all-consuming need to keep her safe and alive had driven him to impulsively offer himself up as a sacrificial lamb, but what in the hell could have motivated a thousand year old, immortal vampire to throw it all away?

"Sitting down on the job while the rest of us work our butts off? So not surprised, Damon," Caroline tsked, surprising him with her sudden appearance. She added a body and two heads to the growing collection and turned to him, brushing hair out of her face with blood streaked fingers. Heaving a melodramatic sigh, she asked. "Why can't the dead guys turn into dust like on _Buffy_? It would be so much easier to clean up."

Damon smirked before saying. "Because this is-."

"The real world. I know," she interrupted, rolling her eyes. "And in the real world, nothing can ever be easy like it is on TV. What are you doing?"

"What?" he replied, too tired in both mind and body to keep up with the abrupt change in topic.

She gestured toward the dagger as she raised a brow. "You took it out."

"Yeah, well," Damon shrugged as he let his gaze wander over Elijah's still form. "I thought maybe…he might not be dead _dead." _

Caroline let that sink in while she looked around the tomb. The pile of hybrid bodies didn't mask the damage done during the final assault on Klaus and the air was still hazy with dust. Each second that passed ate away at the slim hope Damon had harbored that removing the dagger might actually bring Elijah back.

"So, were you really going to, like, let Bonnie kill you?" Caroline asked suddenly, the tone of her voice far more pointed than Damon would have expected.

"She's wanted to do it for so long, I figured…two birds, one stone…," he made a face, focusing on the dagger rather than Caroline's growing incredulity. "Klaus would be dead, Elena would be alive and Bonnie would finally get her revenge."

"Bonnie doesn't want that anymore."

Damon raised a brow. "That's news to me."

"Whatever, Damon," she huffed in exasperation and turned to leave.

"What difference does it make to you?" he asked, halting her progress. He waited until she'd turned back around and met his gaze before shrugging. "It's not like we're best friends…or even friends at all."

"Um, that doesn't mean I want you _dead," _she declared, looking at him as if he'd gone completely insane. "Besides what about Elena?"

"_I want you, Damon. I love you." _

Shifting uncomfortably, he tore his gaze away from Caroline. Not even Elijah's last words had been able to keep Damon's mind off Elena's confession for long. "What about her?"

"_Hello_, she's in love with you," she replied as if he were four kinds of stupid for needing it spelled out so simply. "And considering what she was willing to _do _to make sure the two of you had a chance to be together, it's just complete bullshit that you went all suicidal on her."

_What she was willing to do…? _Damon frowned at Caroline's choice of words as he rose slowly to his feet. "What do you mean 'what she was willing to do'? What did Elena do, Caroline?"

"Oh, um, you know… just…just the whole Klaus bait thing," she stammered, turning even paler than usual and avoiding his gaze. She began backing toward the door as she smiled far too brightly. "You know, tricking an Original and risking her life so we could all finally have some kind of peace and…and be safe. Look, I've got to, um…there are still more bodies to bring down, so I'm going to, um…yeah, bye!"

"Caroline, wait," he demanded as she blurred down the tunnel and disappeared up the stone stairs. Damon ran after her, determined to discover what the _hell _Elena had done. Her plans were never good, especially when she felt she was acting in the best interest of the people she cared about. He imagined daunting possibilities – a deal with Klaus to trade her life for her friends – something selfless and irritatingly noble.

He was so focused, he nearly ran Bonnie over as she made her way down the stairs to the cavern. Judging from the wide-eyed expression she wore and the way she was hugging the walls, Caroline had passed her on her way out.

"What was that?" Bonnie asked a little breathlessly as Damon came to an abrupt stop in front of her.

"Caroline. Running away," he muttered, glowering at the stairs for a moment before addressing the witch with a frown. He would catch up with Caroline later. "What are you doing back here? I thought you were on Jeremy duty."

"I was," Bonnie explained, rubbing her forehead and looking like she was about to pass out from exhaustion. "The ring worked just like it was supposed to and he's going to be fine. I needed to talk to you."

"Yeah, likewise," Damon said as he took Bonnie by the elbow and escorted her down the tunnel. Ignoring the way she cringed at the pile of headless and heartless hybrids, he pointed toward Elijah's still very dead body and demanded. "How the hell did this even happen?"

There hadn't been time for a Q&A after Klaus's demise. Just as Bonnie had released the shield and Damon and Stefan had made their way out of the tunnel, Caroline had blurred down the stairs, dramatically announcing that Jeremy had died in the hybrid battle. Despite the common knowledge that he had been wearing the Gilbert eternity ring, Bonnie and Elena had immediately left to be at the boy's side.

And aside from a scathing look he wouldn't forget any time soon, Elena had hardly acknowledged Damon's existence.

"I wasn't sure it would," Bonnie admitted, staring sadly at Elijah's body. Noticing the missing dagger, she frowned. "Who took out the dagger?"

"I did," Damon admitted, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "I thought…maybe it would…"

"Bring him back?" she supplied with a sad smile. "It won't. Elijah's gone."

"But how?" Damon persisted. "He's an Original, that's not supposed to happen."

"I know," she admitted, the bloody mass of bodies drawing her gaze as she wrapped her arms around her midsection. Shivering, she closed her eyes and took a shallow breath. "Look, I'll explain everything, just…can we not do it in here?"

Damon rolled his eyes, but even he had to admit the stench of blood was overpowering. Taking pity on her, he held out a hand toward the tunnel. "After you."

He followed as Bonnie ran back to the outer cavern and took a great, gulping breath of comparatively fresh air. Sheepishly, she looked at him. "Sorry. I think I've reached my bloodshed threshold for the evening."

"Whatever," he replied, though not unkindly as he crossed his arms. He'd reached his own threshold that evening. Despite their success, he was annoyed with all the ways it hadn't gone according to plan and at least in Elijah's case he was going to get some answers. "Start talking, Bennett. How did you kill an _un_killable Original?"

Looking far less green than a moment ago, Bonnie nodded. "When Elijah suggested it, I thought he was nuts. I was afraid for a second that he was going to double cross us again and keep us from killing Klaus, but that wasn't his plan. He knew his brother had to die." She paused before glancing at Damon. "And he knew that I'd never have been able to _kill _you_._"

Damon seriously doubted the truth in that assessment, but he kept his mouth shut as Bonnie continued. "When an Original is killed with the dagger, their life force is just as vulnerable as anybody else's. The difference between Elijah and…you, let's say, is that it doesn't dissipate. The Power stays with the Original's body and when the dagger is removed it can be called back. Even though he was only _dagger _dead, I was able to channel his life force and use it. To be honest, it's a good thing he offered because Klaus was a lot stronger than any of us expected. I doubt even killing Katherine would have been enough."

"That's too bad," Damon muttered absently, counting Katherine's sudden suicidal streak as one of the many things about the evening that just didn't make any fucking sense. Tapping the business end of the dagger against his open palm, he said. "That's the how. What about the why? And don't try to tell me Elijah had a problem with seeing me dead. I've been trying to kill him since he showed up in Mystic Falls."

Bonnie chuckled and raised a brow at Damon. "I think he was tired. He'd spent his entire life helping Klaus lift a curse that he deserved and as soon as they succeeded, Klaus turned on him and left him in a coffin to rot. His entire thousand year existence had been about someone or something else and…I think he just…wanted it to end."

"What the hell did he mean by 'don't waste it?'" Damon asked, growing exceedingly uncomfortable with each new revelation. "Don't waste what?"

"When did he say that?" Bonnie asked, two deep furrows appearing between her brows.

"Right after you staked him…daggered him, whatever," Damon said, pacing away in an effort to do something with the sudden agitation coursing through him. This was all too personal, too much consideration for his wellbeing and the fact that he could never balance the scales made it all the more aggravating.

"I didn't hear it," she admitted, the weight of her gaze bearing down on his shoulders as he stalked about the cavern. "But I can take a guess. I told him about you and Elena, about what you were planning on doing for her and vice versa – all without the other one having a clue. I think that's partly why he offered to be the sacrifice. So you and Elena could have a chance to be together."

"Bullshit," Damon sneered, shaking his head vehemently. "There's no way a fucking _Original _is gonna go all kamikaze because of some fairytale notion about love."

"Well, maybe he did it for Elena. He always liked her," Bonnie replied, earning her a hard glare from Damon. Nonplussed, she squared her shoulders and placed herself directly in his path as he paced in front of the tunnel entrance. "Speaking of which, we need to talk about her."

"Here we go," he muttered, bracing himself for what was sure to be a scathing review of the many ways he wasn't good enough for Elena and never would be. _As if I don't already know. _Bonnie may not want him dead, but there was no way she'd ever accept him as her best friend's boyfriend.

"Do you love her?" she demanded, ignoring his grumbling and going straight to the point.

Damon frowned at the unexpected frontal assault and offered a non-answer. "I thought that was common knowledge."

"Cut the crap, Damon," Bonnie demanded before repeating her question. "Do you love her?"

_More than anything in the world. _Holding her gaze for a long moment, he admitted. "Yes."

"Then you better be ready to be what she needs," she challenged, taking a step closer. "Elena is one of the strongest people I know, but she's not invincible. Sometimes I wonder if part of the reason she's so willing to be the martyr is because she's trying to beat fate to the punch."

"What the hell does that mean?" Damon demanded, balking at the idea that someone, even Bonnie, knew Elena better than he did.

"She's afraid of being left alone," Bonnie explained, her voice softening. "Her parents and Jenna are gone, John and Isobel died before she even had a chance to decide if she wanted to know them. She was crazy about Stefan, but the bloodlust was stronger than his feelings for her and she lost him, too. She doesn't need another person to test her strength, Damon. She needs someone who's going to _stay_."

Damon glared at her as that single word hung in the air between them. Bonnie's implication was clear, making him wonder if she somehow knew about his plan to leave town. It wasn't enough for him to simply remain in Mystic Falls, to be what Elena needed – what she _deserved – _Bonnie was asking him to rise above his personal baggage and be the one thing Elena could count on when the rest of her world fell apart. He needed to be the constant, a grounding presence instead of the irrational, impulsive vampire who let his emotions twist and turn him on a dime.

It was everything Damon had ever wanted to be to Elena, and considering he'd _never _been that person – even as a human – he knew he'd never be able to deliver.

"I don't care what you say, Stefan, this is the last body I'm hauling down here," Caroline's voice carried down the stairs a few seconds before she appeared with yet another headless hybrid body tucked under her arm, interrupting the conversation. "If there are more out there they can sit and rot. Or why don't you go find Katherine? She conveniently disappeared just when there was real work to do...Oh! Bonnie. Hey. What are you doing here?"

"I was just-."

"Leaving," Damon announced, spinning Bonnie around by the shoulders and guiding her toward the stairs as Stefan made his own way down. Ignoring his brother, Damon focused instead on getting the witch out of the tomb before she imparted anymore of her wisdom upon him in front of anybody else.

"Don't think you can end this conversation by shuffling me out of the room, Damon," Bonnie declared as they emerged at the top of the stairs and into the fresh night air. Shrugging out of his grasp, she turned on him and grabbed the front of his bloody shirt. "Elena is my best friend and I don't care if she loves you, if you hurt her, I'll make you wish you'd never laid eyes on her."

"Bonnie…_Bonnie, _I get it, okay?" Damon quickly promised as he felt the first tendrils of pain wrap around the base of his skull. The witch's eyes were wide and the smug confidence with which she'd addressed him in the tomb had morphed into manic desperation. She probably had no idea she was starting to burst the blood vessels in his brain. "Calm down before you make my fucking head explode."

Bonnie started, releasing him as she covered her mouth with her hand. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean…"

"It's fine," he assured her, massaging the back of his neck to release the tension.

"I'm worried about her, Damon," Bonnie confessed. "She was reckless before, but drinking Caroline's blood to make sure she made it out of the tomb? That's just…that's beyond-."

"Wait. She did _what?_" Damon demanded, grabbing Bonnie again as his heart dropped to his feet. In the part of his brain that could work around his shock, he made the connection between the damning words she had just uttered and the vague comment that had sent Caroline running from the tomb.

Bonnie's eyes went wide. "Oh, god. You didn't know."

"Obviously not," he replied, unable to fathom a scenario in which Elena would willingly drink a vampire's blood. The memories of her betrayed expression and bruised lips after he'd forced his blood on her still haunted him. Gripping Bonnie's upper arms, he said. "Elena doesn't _want_ to be a vampire, she'd rather _die _than turn, why would she drink Caroline's blood?"

"I-I think you need to ask her," Bonnie stammered, prying his hands off of her arms before he could tighten his grip and snap her bones. "I shouldn't have said anything. Elena didn't want you to know, but after everything that happened…I thought someone had told you."

Before Damon's stupefied brain could formulate a response, Tyler arrived, carrying the wooden crate of explosives Alaric had left with them. "All the hybrids are in the tomb," he announced, oblivious to the gravity of the conversation he'd just interrupted. "Are we going to do this or what?"

"Damon?" Bonnie said, watching him warily. "Are you okay?"

_I don't know what I am, _Damon thought, trying to decide if he was angry _at _Elena or _for _Elena. She never should have been put into a position where she felt compelled to drink vampire blood, never should have been forced to risk her humanity - not for Stefan, not for Jeremy, not for _anybody. _

And if she'd done it for _him…_Damon's stomach turned as his eyes went hot.

There had better be enough blood in her system to finish the job because he was going to kill her.

Unable to speak, he shook his head as he started backing away.

"Dude, where are you going?" Tyler protested, his voice echoing in the still night air. Instead of answering, Damon turned around and picked up the pace, blurring through the woods and putting the tomb far behind him in seconds. He was done being a team player, done with Caroline and her incessant rambling, done with Bonnie and her _concerns _that only served to exacerbate how worthless and inadequate he already felt.

He increased his speed, trying to outrun the nagging part of him that wished he _had _died because then he wouldn't have to choose. He wouldn't have to deal with the fact that even though Elena loved him, he'd destroy her, or that while he'd been planning the end of his unnatural life, for some unfathomable reason, she'd been orchestrating the beginning of hers.

The ridiculous tragedy of it all had Damon at a loss and as he arrived back at the house, only slightly winded despite his desperate flight, he knew there was only one thing he could do.

He was going to take a fucking shower.

* * *

><p>Katherine stared at her reflection in the mirror of Stefan's bathroom as she methodically curled her hair into hundreds of perfect spirals. After Klaus's death, she'd spent one moment alone with Stefan - to kiss him and make sure he was really okay - before quietly disappearing and returning to the Salvatore house. She'd burned the blood-soaked clothes she'd been wearing, and then showered, scrubbing at her skin and hair as if she were human and the gore really bothered her.<p>

With her skin pink and stinging from the harsh treatment, she'd dressed in her favorite traveling clothes. Boots, pants, corset top and jacket – leather from head to toe that served as both a literal and figurative shield from anything a determined adversary tried to aim at her only vulnerability.

Her heart.

Setting the curling iron on the counter with more force than necessary, she braced her arms on the edge of the granite countertop and took a deep breath. Katerina Petrova and her humanity were quiet for the moment, but something had broken within her that night and her usual tricks to quiet her emotions no longer worked. She felt unhinged and raw, like the inside of her heart and head had been scraped down to the nerves and left exposed to the elements. Tears burned behind her eyes, pooling against her lashes at the thought of what _could _have happened to Stefan. In the next second, a feverish rage overtook her at the idea of the inevitable eventuality of Stefan returning to Elena. It was like her humanity was getting its revenge for centuries of repression.

For the first time in nearly five-hundred years, Katherine Pierce was at the mercy of her emotions and she didn't have the slightest clue how to handle it. So, she'd made the only decision that made sense.

She'd decided to run.

Drawing a deep breath, Katherine squared her shoulders and lifted her gaze to meet that of her own reflection. Her make-up was flawless – expertly lined, smoky eyes and deep red lips – and her hair was arranged in neat spirals. The leather hugged her curves, accentuating them to their best advantage. For ease of travel, she'd skipped the necklaces and rings, choosing a pair of tear-drop shaped lapis lazuli earrings as her protection against the sun. She looked equally dangerous and seductive – nothing like the emotional wreck that had knelt on the floor of the tomb and welcomed death with open arms.

"I just need to get away," she murmured on a sigh, releasing her death grip on the counter and shutting off the light as she left the bathroom. She needed a clean break from Mystic Falls and anything else that reminded her of Stefan. Perhaps, if she put enough time and centuries between her and what had transpired over the past few weeks, she'd regain her balance.

Eager to leave before Stefan returned from the tomb, Katherine shouldered her bag, surveying the room for a final time. A small, masochistic part of her begged her to leave a clue behind for him to follow, clinging to the hope that all of his pretty words had been fueled by more than bloodlust. The cynical part of her refused to leave any hints or reminders that might inspire him to follow her in some misguided mission to lure her back.

She knew that each year he failed to find her would irreparably break her.

The first step was the hardest, but Katherine forced her feet to move, placing one in front of the other until she crossed the threshold of Stefan's room and entered the hallway. Each subsequent step proved easier as her thin heels echoed against the hardwood floor and she made her way to the stairs. She was so focused on getting out of the house, her thoughts elsewhere, that she nearly ran into Damon on the small landing halfway to the first floor.

"What the hell happened to you?" Katherine exclaimed, taking an involuntary step backward at the elder Salvatore's appearance. The last time she'd seen him, his shirt had been stained with a little of Elena's blood and now it appeared he'd taken a bath in the stuff.

"Fucking hybrids," Damon muttered, glancing down at himself with disgust before noting her clean clothes and hair. "Nice of you to stay and help, by the way."

"I never signed up for garbage duty," she replied, embracing their antagonistic banter with an ease that gave her hope. Maybe Katherine Pierce would survive her mental breakdown after all. Raising a brow at him, she continued. "I brought Stefan back, I helped you kill Klaus and get rid of Elijah and your precious Elena made it out alive. What more do you want?"

"How about some answers," he replied, blocking her path as she tried to skirt around him. "Why were you so eager to die?"

Katherine's stomach twisted into knots, but she merely rolled her eyes. "Damon, I don't have time for twenty questions."

"You're a fucking vampire," he retorted. "You have all the time in the world."

Katherine glared at him, knowing she could throw him over the banister and blur out of the door before he had a chance to recover. There was nothing he could do to force her to answer and the idea was incredibly tempting. She was stronger and he knew it, but for some reason no amount of ass-kickings had ever knocked any sense into his head.

"You're not going to like what I have to say," she said, surprising herself.

Damon shrugged and crossed his arms, his blue eyes flashing even though they were standing in the shadows. "I haven't liked a damn thing anybody's said to me tonight. Why should this be any different?"

"Not even when Elena told you she loved you?" Katherine asked, studying his features in the darkness. Something shifted in his eyes as a muscle ticked in his jaw, but he didn't grant her any further satisfaction.

"We're talking about your weaknesses, Katherine, not mine," he pointed out, invading her personal space in an attempt at intimidation that she'd seen him use a dozen times. Any other day, she'd slam him with a cutting remark or simply walk away, but she could see he was as close to snapping as she was and for once she didn't have the heart to make it worse.

"Temporary insanity," she replied, lifting her chin to bring their faces even closer together. "I lost my mind for a minute."

"You're not getting off that easily," he sneered, crossing his arms and stepping into her path yet again.

"I had to save Stefan and I knew you wouldn't go through with the sacrifice," she tried, dancing closer to the truth as Katerina pushed her way closer to the surface. "Not after Elena confessed her love."

"Please," he mocked. "You don't have a selfless bone in your body. Try again."

Grasping at straws and her control, her voice rose as she said. "I've wanted Klaus dead for centuries-."

"That's hilarious. You're too scared to be the bait to catch him, but you were willing to die so he could be killed?" Damon rolled his eyes. "That is _weak, _Katherine. Really, I'm disappointed."

"Fine," she snapped, opting to be honest with some grace rather than push it further until she became a sobbing mess at his feet. "You want the truth? _You _got to me, Damon. That's why I volunteered, because of you."

Damon blinked and took a step back, finally giving her ample room to flee, but she didn't move. Couldn't. "_I _got to you? What the fuck are you talking about?"

"'Enjoy eternity alone, Katherine'," she replied, wincing as she spoke. No matter how many times the mantra had run through her brain, saying it aloud hurt on a whole different level. "Your parting words in Alaric's apartment. I couldn't stop thinking about them. I still can't."

Damon's voice lost some of its cynical edge as he regarded her with wary curiosity. "Then why are you running away?"

Katherine's defenses may have been breached, but she still had a shred of pride. Twisting her lips into a ghost of her trademark smirk, she shook her head. "I think that's enough truth for one evening. Just be glad you're getting rid of me."

It occurred to her, as she skirted around him and continued down the stairs, that Damon was probably the only person on the planet who could appreciate how she felt. The realization surprised her, as did the sudden - and annoying - empathy she felt for him. He'd spent just as long pining for something he couldn't have as she had. And now, despite Elena's confession of love, Katherine knew the odds for a happily-ever-after with her weren't in his favor. She paused at the door as regret for the damage she'd done squeezed her heart.

"Goodbye, Damon," she said, glancing over her shoulder. He was still standing on the landing, cloaked in shadow, but she knew he was watching her. Despite the years, she still recognized the weight of his gaze.

"Take care of yourself, Katherine," he replied, tipping his head in a bow reminiscent of the era in which they'd first met.

Damon would never forgive her for what she'd done to him and Stefan and she had enough respect for the vampire he'd become not to ask for it, but in that moment she felt the finality of a truce. Offering him a small smile, she tucked one foot behind the other and bobbed in the smallest of curtsies. "I always do."

Opening the front door for the last time was as liberating as it was heartbreaking. Katherine tried not to dwell as she stepped out into the cool night. The air was still and quiet at the late hour, the nocturnal animals having settled into their routines. She turned to pull the door shut and froze as the presence she'd been watching and waiting for all evening finally appeared.

"Katherine?"

_Shit. _She closed her eyes as her heart sank to the pit of her stomach. The goodwill she'd felt toward Damon only seconds ago morphed into frustration as she realized he'd kept her too long and a quiet escape was no longer a possibility. Marshaling her strength, she turned to face Stefan.

Covered in blood and grime, he wore an expression of exhaustion and dawning apprehension as his gaze traveled over her body. Taking in the clothes and the bag slung over her shoulder, the set of his mouth became grim. He made his way slowly up the short flight of stairs and shoved his hands into his pockets, blocking her path with his broad shouldered frame. Raising a brow, he asked. "Going somewhere?"

Katherine shook her head and looked away. _Fucking Salvatores. _


	31. The Choice

_AN: This by far my longest chapter, so I'll keep it short…THANK YOU for the passionate reviews. I loved them all. _

_WARNING: Smuttiness ensues below._

Chapter Thirty-One – The Choice

Stefan tightened the leash on his temper as he watched Katherine actively avoid his gaze. A muscle ticked in his jaw as she stood in mute silence, refusing to answer the question he'd asked her moments before.

Not that he needed her to answer.

Finding her standing on the front steps, poised to leave, hadn't been entirely unexpected. He'd been unconscious when she'd arrived in the tomb, but he'd heard her offer herself to Bonnie as a sacrifice. He'd been confused and appalled, but unable to act on either emotion in the heat of the battle. After the shield had been lowered, he'd emerged from the tomb to find a shaky Katherine, barely able to meet his eye.

When everyone had fled to tend to Jeremy, and they had been alone, she had kissed him with a ferocious need that had ignited every nerve ending in his body. She'd latched onto his bloodstained shirt, pulling him close until they were perfectly aligned from head to toe. Behind her possessiveness, however, he'd tasted her fear and after they'd parted, he'd been shocked by the tears in her eyes. When she'd disappeared minutes later, he hadn't been surprised. If there was one thing Katherine couldn't handle, it was her own vulnerability.

Still, he wasn't pleased to return home to _this._

No, he didn't need an answer to his question. What he needed was an _explanation_.

Katherine adjusted the strap of her bag, shifting her weight to her left leg as she stared over his shoulder. Outwardly, her black leather ensemble and perfectly done hair and make-up made her look every inch the dangerous, untouchable vampire she wanted the world to see, but as Stefan studied her in the building silence, the chinks in her armor began to show.

She pressed her lips together into a thin line, clenching her jaw so tight that he could hear her teeth grind. Her arms weren't crossed so much as they were wrapped protectively around her body, as if to hold her together. Katherine had tried to wash away and cover up the terrified woman from the tomb who had kissed him with such need, but she hadn't succeeded.

"Are you going somewhere?" Stefan asked again, focusing on keeping his voice calm. The hybrid blood had soaked into his skin and clothes, and was taunting his hunger and fatigue with every breath he took.

"I decided to leave," Katherine finally admitted in a low voice.

"Why?" he asked warily, dull panic wrapping around his chest and tightening like a vise.

"Because I can," she replied, trying to sound hard and failing. Breathing deeply, she lifted her gaze, but still refused to meet his. "Klaus is dead, we're both free. There's no reason for me to stay."

_Bullshit, _he thought angrily and it was a testament to his control that he only snapped. "You were going to leave without saying goodbye."

Leather creaked as she tightened her arms and finally looked at him. Her face was serene, her mouth curved in the above-it-all sneer that he knew so well. "I was hoping to avoid a scene. I knew you'd make one and I'm tired of being responsible for you." She paused before hitching the corner of her mouth slightly higher. "Goodbye, Stefan."

Without dropping his gaze, she brushed past him, her boots clicking on the cement. If she'd said something so dismissive in Charleston, he would have been shattered, but Katherine had made a mistake in looking him in the eye and he'd seen everything she'd been trying to hide.

"I always knew you were selfish and a liar, Katherine. I just had no idea you'd lie to yourself, too," Stefan said casually, smiling with grim satisfaction when the sound of her footsteps slowed before stopping altogether. Glancing over his shoulder, he found her gaping at him incredulously.

"Excuse me?"

"You're a liar," he repeated, keeping his hands in his pockets as he made his way down the short flight of stairs to the driveway where she stood. "You're not leaving because you're sick of me and my pathetic reliance on you."

Katherine narrowed her eyes. "Really? Then why am I leaving Stefan? Enlighten me."

"Because you're afraid," he said, invading her personal space until she practically had to bend over backwards to look him in the eye. After a moment of silence, she swallowed, dropping her gaze to his throat and his initial anger over her plan to flee abated as the fragile walls she'd built to protect herself collapsed. With gentle hands, he framed her face, indulging in the softness of her skin. The scent of her perfume drowned out the hybrid blood and he reveled in it as he closed his eyes. Two days of animal blood had done wonders for his control and he'd discovered that it wasn't his diet that had allowed him to find the balance that came so easily to other vampires. It wasn't simply Katherine's presence, either.

It was his own acceptance and honesty that had paved the way for the vampire and the man to finally exist as one.

"I saw you in the tomb, Katherine," he continued, noting her sharp intake of breath. "I heard what you were willing to do. You love me and it terrifies you."

"Please, just …," she whispered, lifting her hands to cover his. Instead of using her superior strength to pull them away, she latched on like an anchor. Her entire body trembled. "Just let me go."

"No," he frowned, shaking his head as he stroked her cheeks with his thumbs. Opening his mind and soul to the truth about his feelings for her had been the key to his sanity. He suspected now that he could physically live without her and _not _turn into a blood crazed sociopath, but that didn't mean he wanted to.

"I can't do this, Stefan," she confessed, her voice breaking as she spoke his name.

"Yes you can," he insisted, rethinking the past few weeks he'd spent with her and wondering where he'd failed her. "Why can't you believe I love you?"

"I believe you _think _you love me," Katherine replied, tightening her grip on his hands, still unable to meet his eye. "But it's just the human blood. Eventually, you'll go back to animal blood. You'll see the truth and you'll want Elena. She's everything you thought I was, everything I pretended to be so you'd fall in love with me all those years ago."

"I already went back to the animal blood," Stefan admitted quietly and was rewarded when she finally met his gaze. He almost smiled at the naked hope radiating from the depths of those wide, dark eyes, even as they glistened with tears. One slipped through her lashes, running down her cheek to pool against his thumb and he was startled to realize he'd never seen her cry before. Wiping the tear away, he continued. "I did it a few days ago. I had to know if what I was feeling was real. I thought that going back to animal blood was the only way to figure that out, and it was, but…not in the way I expected."

"What do you mean?" Katherine asked, shock rendering her voice nearly inaudible.

"Human blood was never the problem, the lies were," Stefan explained as she frowned in confusion. Haltingly, he attempted to explain the truth he'd only just discovered – that Katherine's death had broken him to the point where denial had been his only option. He'd convinced himself that his feelings had all been a lie, a compulsion, and _that _had allowed him to hate her. The hatred had been so much easier than the pain of loss. The way animal blood had blunted his vampiric nature, had made the lie easier to uphold. "Human blood brought the truth to the surface, making the lies harder to maintain, but since I thought you were dead, I couldn't let them go and it…it almost drove me crazy.

"Then you came back and I slipped again," he said, brushing away more tears as they fell down her cheeks unnoticed. "When I saw you in Charleston…that was the beginning. I didn't understand why you made me feel sane, but now I do."

"Why?" she asked, her eyes deep wells of conflicting emotion.

"I love you," he said simply, wishing there were other words that could convey just how much, how she made him feel whole after over a century of feeling broken. "You're not my crutch, Katherine. I never needed you to handle the blood lust, I needed you to help me find a way out of the lies and back to the truth. Human blood, animal blood, it doesn't matter, I've _always_ loved you. You are everything to me. I don't need you to stay, I _want _you to."

Stefan had had plenty of time in the past few days to work out the truth for himself, but he hadn't rehearsed his speech to Katherine. The animal blood revelation had affected her, but she continued to stare at him doubtfully. The calm with which he'd explained what she'd helped him to discover wavered as the seconds silently passed between them. She continued to cling to him desperately, but a war was raging behind her dark brown eyes that he was helpless to affect.

Unnerved by her uncertainty, he felt her slipping away from him as his gaze dropped to her mouth, drinking in the sensuous curves. An idea came to him, fueled by equal parts desperation and selfish desire. His words may have been inadequate, but maybe there was another way to show her the truth.

Stefan slowly lowered his mouth to hers, watching and waiting for the smallest hint of distress. At the first light contact, her breath caught, encouraging him to continue even though she hadn't kissed him back. Closing his eyes, he deepened the kiss, moving his mouth over her closed lips until he thought he might die if he didn't get a better taste.

He pulled back long enough to speak, grasping for words of encouragement. "Katherine-."

She kissed him before he could say more, shifting her grip on his hands to bring him closer. Branding him with the intensity of her desire, she opened her mouth to greedily take everything he had to offer and then demand more. Tension he hadn't even realized he'd been carrying melted from him as relief and love for her surged through his veins. He'd done it. He'd finally convinced her that his feelings were real, inspired by nothing more than her.

Katherine let the bag slip from her shoulder and land with a _thunk_ on the driveway before fisting her hand into the fabric of his blood-soaked shirt. Needing to touch more than just her face, Stefan slid one hand back into her thick hair and lowered the other to wrap around her waist. Her top just brushed the edge of her pants, allowing him to slip his hand underneath the leather garment to press flat against her bare skin.

In a flash, Katherine propelled them halfway across the yard, to the tree where he'd clumsily broken up with Elena only a few days before. His back connected hard with the rough bark, scraping his skin through the thin t-shirt, but he barely felt it. Nothing mattered but the woman in his arms and the amazing things she was doing with her lips and tongue. _Forget the blood, _he thought, clenching his fingers in her hair, _I could get drunk off of her._

And then, just as suddenly, she was gone.

Stefan opened his eyes to find Katherine a few steps away, staring at him as she held a hand to her swollen lips. Closing her eyes, she shook her head slightly and murmured. "It's just a theory."

"What?" he asked, breathing hard and fighting to reign in the instinct to take her down to the grass and have his way with her right there in the middle of the yard.

"We've been together nearly every day since Charleston," she said, slowly lowering both arms to her sides. "What if you're lying to yourself again? How do you know I'm not just a sanity crutch?"

"Katherine-."

"You don't," she continued as if he hadn't spoken. Shaking her head again, this time with more force, she began backing away from him. "You have no idea, this is all just…a theory."

"Goddammit, Katherine, it's not a _theory_," Stefan swore, blurring to her side and gripping her shoulders. Shaking her as his temper slipped, he continued. "You're not a fucking experiment. I love you. What do I have to do to get you to believe that?"

Katherine's expression as she looked at him was so lost, so helpless, he almost couldn't believe he was holding the same woman who had brazenly lured him into the cemetery in Charleston. Tears filled her eyes again, but they didn't fall. "You have to let me go."

"No," he said, blatantly refusing. He'd do anything for her, anything at all, but he couldn't be without her again.

"You have to," she insisted, her voice breaking as she held his gaze. "I can't do this, Stefan. You make me _feel_ things. Things I haven't felt in five hundred years and don't know how to deal with anymore. I can't handle letting you in only to lose you again when you come to your senses and realize that it's Elena that you really want."

"That's not going to happen," he vowed. "Even if I wanted it to, she'd never take me back."

"She'll forgive you," Katherine reminded him. "You said it yourself. If Elena can forgive Damon, she can forgive anybody, anything. Even you."

Stefan cursed himself for baiting his brother with that stupid taunt in front of Katherine. Swallowing his sudden rage and frustration, he spoke through clenched teeth. "I didn't…I only said that to get under Damon's skin. Elena could forgive me. We could even…be friends again, but it could never be like it was. Katherine, I-."

"I want to believe you," Katherine confessed sadly. "More than anything."

Stefan sighed with relief and he loosened his grip on her shoulders. "Good."

"But I can't," she continued, shrugging out of his grasp. Painful disappointment cut him with each step she took in retreat.

"Katherine, please…," he tried weakly, but he didn't know what else to say. The victory of his self-discovery felt hollow now that he was losing the person he'd been most excited to share it with. He wanted to order her to stay, or to let him come along, but she was Katherine. No matter what, she'd always be stronger than him and if she really wanted to, she could physically force him to do as she asked.

She made it back to the driveway and picked up her bag, repairing the façade of her strength outside of his embrace. Straightening her jacket, she gazed at him resignedly. "It never would have worked. I was broken before we met."

Stefan didn't believe her, but he understood with heartbreaking clarity that nothing he could say would change her mind. He'd rebuked her too many times when she had first reentered his life and he'd needed her too badly when she'd found him in Charleston. How _could_ she trust him? Words meant nothing when the extremes in his behavior proved to her that he was ruled by blood.

"Goodbye, Stefan," she said again, lingering for a moment before slowly making her exit. Numb, he followed her path to her car, watching as she tossed her bag into the backseat and climbed behind the wheel. He had a second to hope the damn thing wouldn't start before the vehicle roared to life. Headlights blazed a moment later, cutting a path of illumination through the dark. Katherine put the car into gear, backing carefully down the driveway and toward the road. In seconds, she'd maneuvered the car into the proper lane and had sped off to the west.

She didn't even give him a backwards glance.

Stefan watched the red glow of the taillights until they disappeared around a bend in the road. Emotionally bereft and covered in hybrid blood, he stood in the middle of the yard, until something kick started his brain.

_This can't be the end._

He refused to believe it. He was a vampire, for fuck's sake, he had a literal eternity to devise a plan to get Katherine back. He knew she loved him and wanted to be with him, no matter what she said to the contrary. He just needed to figure out a way to make her believe he felt the same way.

He was still standing in the yard as another set of headlights appeared. For one glorious moment, he thought it might be Katherine, but the lights belonged to an SUV and they were coming from the wrong direction. He stepped deeper into the shadows on the lawn as the Gilbert SUV turned into the driveway and came to a stop behind Damon's Camaro.

Stefan wasn't surprised to see Elena climb out of the vehicle several moments later and make her way to the house. He'd been in pain in Klaus's clutches, not blind, and he'd seen the way she'd been clinging to his brother. Knowing Elena, she was there to demand an explanation from Damon about his plan.

He'd already accepted that he'd lost Elena for good, but with his humanity and vampiric nature in better balance, he felt a stab of regret – their relationship may have been doomed from the start, but they'd deserved a better ending. _She _had deserved it.

_She deserves better than Damon, too_, he decided as she slipped quietly into the house without knocking. Although, he had to admit that if anybody could love Elena the way she deserved, it was Damon. The acknowledgement left a bitter taste in his mouth as he turned away from the house and headed for the woods. Stefan needed peace to plan his next move and he knew once Damon and Elena started fighting there wouldn't be a room in that house where he wouldn't be able to hear it.

He really didn't want to be around when they made up, either.

Breaking through the tree line on the edge of the property, Stefan said a little prayer to the universe that Damon didn't fuck up with Elena and make things worse. He had to believe that if Damon and Elena could make it work, he and Katherine stood a chance.

* * *

><p>Elena's heart was pounding as she climbed the cement steps of the Salvatore house. With trembling fingers, she grasped the ornate doorknob, pushing it open after a moment's hesitation to peer into the darkened foyer.<p>

"Damon?" she called, breaking the silence as she stepped into the shadows and closed the door behind her. Shifting from one sandaled foot to the other, she waited for a response that never came. The house was empty. Damon wasn't there.

Thinking that he might still be at the tomb, she reached into her pocket for her cell phone, remembering too late that she'd left it on her dresser at home. Sighing, she bit her lip and took a few steps toward the equally dark living room, hoping that he just hadn't heard her and she'd find him standing in front of the fire place with a glass of bourbon in his hand and a scowl on his face.

But he wasn't there.

_I'll just…wait for him then, _she resolved, moving by instinct to the stairs. Gripping the banister, she looked up toward the second floor as her mixed emotions kept her from mounting the first step.

After Damon and Stefan had made their way out of the tomb – alive – and announced that Klaus had been killed, Elena had enjoyed roughly five seconds of sheer happiness and relief before anger had taken over. Damon had lied to her. Not by accident or for strategic reasons, but on purpose and by design. The lie had been made worse by the fact that he'd been planning on sacrificing himself to defeat Klaus. After months of fighting with her over _her _choice to die to save the people she loved, after harsh doses of cold reality that had left her in tears over her own selfishness, he'd turned around and tried to do the very same thing. Already emotionally wrecked, Elena hadn't been able to decide whether to scream or cry.

Caroline's sudden arrival with the news of Jeremy's 'death' had been perfectly timed and Elena had been grateful for the excuse to leave the tomb and the woods – to leave Damon – entirely. She'd needed time and space and had taken advantage of the opportunity to focus on something other than her own messed up feelings for five minutes.

On the way home, those five minutes had come to an abrupt and premature end. Elena had looked into the backseat of Alaric's SUV to where Bonnie had been sitting with Jeremy's head cradled in her lap and realized that Damon hadn't been alone in his duplicity.

Bonnie had lied to her, too.

Doubly hurt, Elena's reprieve had been ruined. No matter how hard she'd tried to focus on Jeremy, her brain had circled back around to Damon, Bonnie and their lies. The fact that they'd worked together behind her back before had only intensified the betrayal.

After Jeremy had returned to the land of the living, Elena had fled to the privacy of her bathroom. She'd turned on the hot water, rehearsing what she'd say to Damon and Bonnie – her supposed _friends_ –as she'd ignored her reflection and divested herself of every trace of Katherine.

The hot water, however, had had a curious effect on her as it had eased away the tension in her body and rinsed the blood from her hair. Elena's over-stimulated mind had slowed down and, while her anger with Damon and Bonnie hadn't disappeared, it had made room for her relief as she'd acknowledged for the first time that they'd succeeded. Klaus had been killed and everybody she loved had survived. There were no threats hanging over their heads and no enemies waiting in the wings to continue the fight.

Elena could finally just _be _and in that moment of calm, she'd made up her mind to go see Damon. Not to fight with him – they could and _would_ fight tomorrow – but to be with him, to tell him she loved him at a moment when nobody was trying to kill them and he could actually respond.

After everything that had happened, she thought they had earned a chance to catch their breath.

Now, however, as she began to climb the stairs to the second floor, Elena wasn't sure what she felt. She still wanted her peaceful moment, but her sense of betrayal had been reawakened by the fact that Damon wasn't where she'd expected him to be. _I should have stayed, _she admitted as she passed the halfway point, her sandaled feet barely making a sound on the highly polished wood. _If I had, we could have settled things by now. _

Reaching the second floor landing, she saw light spilling through the crack of the partially open door to Damon's room and her self-recriminations ceased. She smiled as she ran to the door and heard the unmistakable sound of water hitting tiles. Her stomach fluttered in anticipation as she pictured Damon beneath the steady spray.

_Tomorrow, _she thought as she slipped into the bedroom without making her presence known, _being mad can definitely wait until tomorrow._

A small lamp next to the bed provided the only light as Elena silently made her way across the floor. Longingly, she gazed at the pillows, toying with the idea of curling up beneath the covers to wait for him. As tempting as it was, she decided against it, knowing sheer exhaustion would put her to sleep in seconds.

Feeling unusually self-conscious, she made a circuit of Damon's room, examining the sparse furnishings with interest. Unlike Stefan, who'd collected knickknacks from every era in which he'd lived, Damon wasn't much for things and it didn't take long for her to take in everything and circle back to where she'd started. A dark shape at the foot of the bed caught her eye for the first time, making her frown. Drawing closer, she recognized it as Damon's bag, the one he'd brought on their road trip.

It appeared to be fully packed.

For a long moment, Elena stared at the neat piles of shirts and pants as a vague feeling of foreboding welled up inside of her. Hesitantly, she peered deeper into the bag, noticing the black case that she knew from traveling with him was his shaving kit. One morning, he'd bitched about the fact that even though he was technically _dead _he still had to shave. She'd almost admitted that she thought the day old stubble was kind of sexy before she'd literally bit her tongue and forced her brain to think of something else.

The foreboding turned to dread as she found his leather jacket beneath the other clothes. The summer heat had kept him from wearing it much on their trip, but he'd brought it along. Dread became outright panic as she discovered the books – they were his favorites, the only ones he'd kept in his room rather than in the vast library on the first floor. Elena's breath caught and her lungs stopped working as she realized that everything Damon needed to survive – everything that mattered to him – fit into a single bag and it was sitting at the ready on his bed.

"No," she said, shaking her head as she clutched the edges of the open bag. It couldn't be true. She had to be wrong. There was no way that Damon was leaving Mystic Falls. After everything they'd been through, he couldn't…he _wouldn't _just…leave her.

Would he?

"Elena?"

Startled, she whirled around and found Damon, fresh from the shower and wearing nothing but a towel draped low around his hips, looking at her with concern. Beads of water dripped from his hair to his chest and despite her uncertainty, a part of her could think of nothing else to do but stride over to him and lick the droplets from his bare skin. The zipper dug into her palm as she curled her fingers into fists around the edge of the open bag, bringing everything back into focus.

"What is this?" she asked, struggling valiantly to breathe around the vise squeezing her lungs.

"My bag," Damon said without a hint of guilt as he watched her warily and took a tentative step toward her. "Elena, are you alright?"

"Am I alright?" she repeated, the panic hardening into something violent at the casual way he'd answered her question. He _was _leaving, damn him. Hurling the bag at his feet, she took satisfaction in the way it hit the floor and spilled half the contents onto the hardwood. "I'm fucking fantastic."

His gaze flicked down toward the bag for a moment before returning to her face and observing dryly. "Clearly."

"So, what was this? Your back up plan?" she asked, gesturing angrily at the upturned bag, forgetting all of her goodwill and desire for a peaceful reunion. "Just in case your suicide plot didn't succeed, you still had a way out?"

"My what?" he scoffed, kicking the bag aside as he took another step toward her. "Elena, that's not what this is."

"Don't you dare try and tell me I misunderstood," she ordered as she began to tremble. The towel was ridiculously distracting, calling more attention to the fact that he was practically naked than protecting her from it, but she refused to stop and tell him to get dressed.

Knowing Damon, he'd use it as an excuse to strip it off and force her to continue the argument while he _was _naked.

Lifting her chin, she glared steadfastly into his eyes, ignoring both the broad expanse of his bare chest as well as the desire pooling low in her belly. "If it hadn't been for Elijah, you'd be dead. That was the plan, right?"

"Yes," he replied definitively, meeting her gaze without flinching. The fact that he wasn't trying to hedge or qualify his answer twisted the knife of betrayal deeper into Elena's heart. Angry tears blurred her vision and she was rendered momentarily speechless.

"You're such a fucking hypocrite," she finally declared, stalking toward him until they were only inches apart and she could see the raw fury blazing in his eyes. His very presence threatened to overwhelm her as she immediately realized her mistake.

Fighting with Damon had always been…_arousing. _Even at their worst, when she'd well and truly believed she'd hated him, she'd felt the pull between them, been helpless to it even when it made her furious. He'd get so close, fill her field of vision so completely, that she'd lose her train of thought. She'd inevitably catch herself staring at his mouth, wondering if he was going to kiss her or break her neck just to relieve the tension between them.

And that had been when he'd been fully clothed.

Feeling as though she deserved an award for her effort, she kept her gaze off of his bare chest and his lips and focused on the icy blue of his eyes. "For _months _you called me every kind of coward for trying to save the people I loved the only way I knew how and then you turn around and try to do the same thing. Only _you _didn't even have the balls to tell me. You and Bonnie had to concoct a nice, little plan that left me in the dark, as usual."

"Elena-."

"No, you don't get to talk right now," she ordered, ignoring the way Damon's eyes darkened and his jaw clenched. Her pulse fluttered with exhilaration as it coursed through her veins like a drug and she hated herself and him for being as turned on as she was upset. "It's my turn to tell you what a jerk you are. Did you forget your big speech about how selfish and inconsiderate I was for refusing to fight and forcing the people I love to bury me?"

"I'm already dead, Elena-."

"Shut up, that is such bullshit," she snapped, shoving him ineffectually. "I'm so sick of that excuse. You breathe, you sleep, you eat, but more importantly, you can still _die, _so whatever you are, you're not freaking dead."

"Okay," Damon replied, slightly amused.

"And you lied to me," she continued, jabbing her finger against his chest as she reveled in her small victory and continued the attack with her best, most indisputable ammunition. Damon stared at her, holding his ground. "I counted on you. I've always counted on you to be honest with me, even when things were bad. And after these past few weeks, I thought-"

"What?" he prompted with maddening calm. "What did you think, Elena?"

"That we were a _team. _That we were in this together," Elena cried, punctuating each declaration by hitting him again, this time with both fists. "Thinking about you was the _only _thing that got me through being in the tomb with Klaus. In the tunnel, your voice was all I had to hold on to when I didn't know if I was going to survive. I did it all so I could just _be _with you and you _lied _to me. So tell me. How long had you been planning this, Damon? How long did you and Bonnie work together to keep this all a secret from poor, fragile, Elena?"

"I don't know," he said catching one of her hands and holding it tight when she tried to jerk it away, his voice startlingly quiet and controlled after her violent outburst. The heat between them flared at the spot where he touched her. "How long were you planning on drinking Caroline's blood?"

Elena's jaw dropped as her cheeks burned. She slipped, letting her gaze fall to his mouth as she floundered for her voice. Finding it quickly, she demanded. "Who told you?"

"_Not _the point," Damon replied, the raw emotion emanating from his eyes a sharp contrast to his otherwise controlled demeanor. Holding tightly to her wrist, he gripped her hip, forcing her to retreat until her back hit one of the tall posts at the foot of his bed. "You want to talk about _my_ lies? Try answering for some of your own."

Furious at herself for falling into his trap and with him for being infinitely stronger than her, Elena craned her neck and defiantly looked him in the eye. He was closer now, so close that she could feel his breath on her lips as he became the only thing in her world. With each second the thread of their fight fell further away as his presence – dark, dangerous and undeniably seductive – worked its way past her defenses and latched onto that part of her that had always wanted him like this.

"It's not the same," she finally whispered, the fingers of her free hand curling into his bicep hard enough to bruise as her chest brushed his with every shallow breath that she took.

"Why not?" he demanded as his gaze traveled from her eyes to her mouth and back again. He shifted his grip on her wrist and absently began dragging his thumb over the palm of her hand. Her heart raced faster as the mesmerizing touch ignited her nerve endings and she was grateful he had her pinned to the bedpost or she might have collapsed to the floor.

"Because my lie would have kept us together," she said, maintaining the sharp edge of her anger even though her body demanded that she close the scant distance between them and work out their differences in the most carnal of ways. She knew he wanted her, too. Pressed so tightly against her from head to foot, his interest was impossible to hide. Sliding her hand over his shoulder and behind his head, she buried her fingers in his hair and pulled him closer. Their lips brushed as she continued. "Yours would have torn us apart."

"Maybe that's how it should be," he suggested, narrowing his eyes as he held back. The threat ignited another spark of panic that got lost as her desire overwhelmed everything else.

"You don't really believe that," she challenged, calling his bluff. Dropping her free hand, her nails scraped tenderly down his chest, and then lower, past the knot of the towel to tease the outline of his erection through the fabric.

Damon stopped breathing, the only outward sign that her words and actions had left an impact. Elena held her breath as a tangle of emotions – need, fury, fear – warred in his icy gaze. She waited to see which one would win, refusing to give in first. An eternity seemed to pass in the few seconds it took for him to come to a decision.

"Goddamn it, Elena," he cursed, framing her face with his hands and taking her mouth with a bruising force that she eagerly returned. Parting her lips when he demanded entry, she tasted everything– frustration, terror, love …desire…nearly overwhelming desire. The depth of his need for her poured from him until she was practically drunk from it, on the edge of release and all he'd done was _kiss_ her.

"This doesn't change anything," she vowed as he tore his mouth away and she gasped for breath like a drowning woman. He'd finally released her hand and as he came back to kiss her again - or shut her up, she wasn't entirely sure - she unzipped the hooded sweatshirt to let it fall from her shoulders. The fight wasn't over, she wasn't conceding defeat.

Neither was he.

"I know," he replied, with an infuriating smirk as he released her so she could strip her cami over her head herself and toss it to the floor. This time, she didn't give him a chance to admire anything as she wrapped her arms around him and sought out his mouth for another long, toe-curling kiss. Her nipples hardened to stiff peaks as her heaving chest brushed against his with every breath.

Reaching between them, she sought out the towel, but Damon caught her wrists and spun her around before she could so much as loosen the knot keeping it in place. Her protest turned into a reluctant moan of pleasure as he cupped her breast, strumming the nipple with his thumb.

"That is so not fa-ir," she protested, her voice breaking as he slipped his hand down the front of her pants to cup her intimately. Stroking the soft, wet folds, he dipped one a finger inside of her and chuckled darkly as he stroked her. The low rumble combined with the dizzying sensations emanating from the center of her being combined to turn her into a quivering mess.

"I don't play fair," he replied, emphasizing his claim by adding another finger as he blazed a trail of kisses down her throat. The blunt edge of his human teeth scrapped against her sensitive skin, making her wish he'd sink his fangs into her neck and drink from her again. The unexpected thought sent a spark of wicked desire straight to her clit and she came hard in his hands, crying out as she sagged in his arms.

Damon moved quickly and before Elena had a chance to consider the notion that had pushed her over the edge or what it meant, she was flat on her back as the comforter billowed around her, lost in another mind-numbing kiss. The towel had disappeared and he was easing her pants down her legs by the time she could string two coherent thoughts together.

_You are not taking over again, _she vowed, using the element of surprise to roll them both over. Her naked thighs fell naturally on either side of his hips, bringing her sensitive flesh into direct contact with the hard length of his arousal. She linked her hands with his, pressing them into the mattress on either side of his head as she sat halfway up. He uttered a groan as the move increased the friction between them. Elena forced herself to stop and breathe before she fell apart all over again. He wasn't even inside of her yet and she was already so freaking close. _Again. _

She released one of his hands to brush her hair out of her face and grinned at his expression – a combination of apprehension and lust. He hadn't expected her to seize control and while it had nothing to do with the fight that had started all of this, she enjoyed the victory.

"This time…you come first," she declared, biting her lips as she twisted her hips against his cock and tortured him with more pressure. He'd sent her spiraling into orgasm twice now before she'd so much as touched him and she intended to return the favor.

"Christ, Elena," he growled, yanking his other hand out of her grasp and gripping her hips to keep them from moving. "Stop."

"Or what?" she challenged, placing her hands on his chest and leaning in to use her teeth on his lower lip.

"Or this is going to be over really quick," Damon warned, his entire body shaking with restraint even as he smirked. "And one of us will be disappointed."

Elena laughed, taking more satisfaction in the fact that she could drive him to the brink as she reached between them to drag her nails gently up the underside of his erection. "Don't hold back."

With dizzying speed, she was on her back again as Damon flipped them over, slipping a hand beneath her knee and sliding all the way inside of her in a single thrust. He swallowed her cry of shock with his mouth, exploring the contours of hers as if for the first time. Blindly, she groped for him as she kissed him back, pulling him closer, wanting to feel the reassuring weight of his body as they began to move together.

She hadn't forgotten about the lies he'd told her and from the way he was kissing her with such bruising force, she knew he hadn't forgotten hers, either. Her anger was so mixed up in her desire for him, she couldn't separate the two. She also couldn't bring herself to care. Damon was there, he was alive – _god, he's so fucking alive_ – and nothing mattered but the incredible sensations he was stirring within her.

Elena grinned triumphantly when Damon started to come – _first, ha! – _and reached between them to tease her clit so they could finish together. She came long and hard, arching against him as she fisted her fingers in his hair.

When she could finally catch her breath, she opened her eyes and found herself staring directly into Damon's. He watched her with interest, waiting to see what she'd do next. He was still inside of her, still hard and she still wanted to fuck, rather than talk.

There was so much that needed to be said. She needed him so badly it drove her crazy, yet she was still so mad at him she didn't know what to do with it. Pulling him into a kiss, she poured everything she felt into the way her mouth moved with his.

She loved him with everything she had.

"Your turn," he announced abruptly, ending the kiss before their bodies took complete control. Keeping them intimately joined, he rolled them over so she could be on top. With a glint in his eye and a smirk on his lips, he pulled her in for another kiss and redirected the challenge. "Don't hold back."

Elena's eyes widened as an indignant grin spread across her lips. She kissed him back, sinking her teeth into his lip almost hard enough to draw blood, but not quite daring to cross that line. Pressing her hands against his chest, she sat up and gave into their connection, moving her hips slowly at first, before quickly building to a familiar rhythm. Damon's hands slid up her bare thighs, his fingers digging into her flesh as she felt him penetrate even deeper inside of her. Coherent thought once again took a back seat to the excruciating pleasure that rippled through her with every stroke.

She decided right then that they were going to fight all night.


	32. Promises

Chapter Thirty-Two – Promises

Stefan wandered the woods surrounding Mystic Falls for hours, the reality of Katherine's departure threatening his newfound equilibrium. The bloodlust called, screaming for human blood with an intensity that threatened to drive him mad. In his most desperate moments, he fell to his knees, holding his head in his hands and gritting his teeth until the sensation eased. It was worse than the withdrawal he'd felt before, because even as his fangs descended and the veins around his eyes burned as they rose to the surface, he knew that no amount of blood – human or otherwise – would take away the pain.

The answer to his current state was as obvious as it was terrifying.

He was grieving for Katherine.

In the past, he would have reacted in one of two ways. As Good Stefan, he'd have sunk into a depression and done nothing but brood and pine for months. On human blood, he'd have indulged in the very basest of his urges, reveling in unrivaled debauchery to prove that Katherine's presence in no way affected him. Caught somewhere in the middle, with both his human and his vampiric natures pulling him equally in opposite directions, Stefan was stuck at a metaphoric crossroads, unable to make a decision.

The night seemed interminable and it wasn't until the sky lightened – the inky black fading into startling purple as the stars began to fade – that he began to feel normal again.

He'd made it through the night. He'd overcome the pain, the anguish, and the overwhelming craving to come out on the other side. He leaned against the nearest tree, dragging a hand still stained with hybrid blood over his face, astounded by the revelation. He felt like he'd passed a test, maintaining his newfound balance and fragile control without Katherine to hold his hand. His _theory _had been right.

And just as suddenly, he knew what he had to do.

Running back toward town at top speed, Stefan arrived at Caroline's house in minutes. Leaping up the front steps, he raised his fist to pound on the front door before remembering how she'd yelled at him the last time. In an effort to be more discreet, he calmly knocked on the door frame, speaking her name at a normal level that he knew she'd hear even in her sleep, but wouldn't wake the entire neighborhood. Very deliberately, he lowered his arms to his sides, fisting his hands as he forced himself to be patient.

A few minutes later, his patience was rewarded as a very groggy and irritated blonde opened the door. Seeing him, she sighed and rolled her eyes. "Seriously, Stefan? It's like, five in the morning. I just got to sleep."

"Pretty sure that's not my fault," he said, raising a brow as he easily picked up the sound of Tyler's steady breathing coming from her bedroom. Not to mention the thick, musky scent of werewolf covering her from head to toe.

Caroline's cheeks flushed. "Whatever," she said primly, fighting a smile as she opened the door wider for him. He'd been invited in already, rendering her permission a formality, but the unconscious, friendly gesture caught him off guard. Noticing his hesitation, she frowned. "Is something wrong?"

"What? No, nothing's wrong, I…I just…I have something to tell you," Stefan explained, shifting his weight as he lingered on the front steps. "It'll only take a second."

"Okay," Caroline replied warily, stepping outside to join him and closing the door quietly behind her. "What's up?"

He'd raced to her house without much of a plan and now he found himself fumbling for words. "I, ah, I need to thank you. For helping me sober up."

"Oh," she said, starting in surprise before she smiled and shrugged. "Well, you're welcome, but I really didn't do anything. I just took you hunting."

"You did," he insisted. "You had every reason _not _to help me after what I did to Elena, but you did anyway. So again, thank you, and…," he paused for a moment, building to the other reason he'd arrived. "Goodbye."

"Goodbye?" she repeated, her eyes going wide as she searched his face. "Wait-what do you mean goodbye? You're leaving Mystic Falls? Why? Oh, my god, you found out about Damon and Elena, didn't you? Please tell me you didn't, like, stake him or anything."

"What-_no. _I mean, yeah, I know about Damon and Elena, but that's got nothing…," Stefan trailed off, realizing how little Caroline actually knew about what had happened to him. He'd been a complete asshole, calling upon their long-lost friendship, only to blackmail her into helping him. She'd done so without complaint – had patiently put up with his irritation and fits of temper – and now he expected to repay that _kindness_ with a simple "thank you". She deserved better than that.

Taking a deep breath, he started at the end of the story. "The truth is, Katherine left last night," he revealed before going all the way to the beginning, to the night he'd stopped longing for Elena and fixated on Katherine. He told Caroline everything – how he realized that losing Katherine had nearly destroyed him and that he'd always loved her – glossing over only the most intimate of details.

He watched Caroline's interest fade into skepticism, understanding that it was hard for her to comprehend a Katherine that he could fall in love with. That he _was _in love with. Katherine didn't expect anybody in Mystic Falls to like her and neither did he. He knew no one would understand his decision and while he'd come a long way from the psychotic creature who'd thrown Elena into a wall, he was done allowing his humanity to dwell on the past. He wanted what he wanted and he refused to feel guilty about it. "I'm leaving to find Katherine. It's about time she's hunted by someone who _doesn't _want her dead."

"Wow," Caroline said after a long moment. Narrowing her eyes, she asked. "You're _sure _this isn't really about Damon and Elena?"

Stefan chuckled. "I'm sure."

"You really love _Katherine_?" she asked doubtfully, making a face as she said the name.

"I really do," he promised, amused by her skepticism. He expected a similar reaction from Damon. "And I need to go prove it to her. But I couldn't leave without seeing you, without _thanking_ you, first."

Caroline pursed her lips, studying him with concern. Wearing his clothes from the night before and covered in blood from head to toe, he knew he must look completely unhinged, but he'd never felt more sane. Suddenly, she shook her head, standing on her toes and wrapping her arms around him to pull him into a hug.

"I'm going to miss you," she whispered as he hesitantly returned the unexpected gesture. They stood that way for a moment as the sky continued to lighten. Giving him a final squeeze, she pulled back and looked him in the eye. "Goodbye, Stefan."

"Goodbye, Caroline," he said, offering her a small smile as she let her arms fall to her sides. Not wanting to draw out the moment, he shoved his hands into his pockets and turned away. They were vampires. Goodbye was never forever, only for now, and he knew he'd see her again. It was just a matter of time.

Buoyed by Caroline's boundless capacity for acceptance, he blurred away, heading home for the last time and one more goodbye.

* * *

><p>Damon awoke at dawn to the cold, grey light of morning slipping through the small gaps in the floor to ceiling curtains. Blinking, he let his eyes adjust as the memories of the night before came back to him in perfect, vivid detail. He could still feel the crush of Elena's lips against his and the urgency of her touch, both flavored with her passion. She'd made a mockery of his good intentions and destroyed his resolve with the intoxicating blend of desire and fury he'd seen in her eyes. Attempting to escape from his own demons, he'd willingly lost himself in her.<p>

And it had worked like fucking gangbusters.

Dragging a hand over his face, Damon looked down to find Elena tucked securely against his side. Using his shoulder for a pillow, she'd effectively molded her body to his, draping one arm across his torso and tangling her leg between his. Breathing slowly and steadily, she slept soundly and he brushed her wild tangle of dark hair back so he could see her face.

Sleep had softened her features, erasing the signs of stress around her eyes and mouth and smoothing her brow. Lightly, he traced her lips with his finger, amazed that although she was more vulnerable to him in that moment than any other in their relationship, she seemed completely at ease.. The only sign of their fight or her fears was in the possessive grip of her hand at his waist, reminding him that she had no intention of letting him go.

The moment was goddamned unreal.

_I could get used to this._

It surpassed everything he'd wanted, everything he'd been craving and obnoxiously pining for since he'd fallen for his brother's girlfriend. The reality of Elena was better than even his most vivid fantasies – and he'd dreamed up some impressive ones. He'd promised himself if he ever managed to find a way into Elena's heart, he'd never let her go.

Of course, at the time, he'd also sworn he didn't stand a chance in hell.

Reaching down to his side, he took Elena's hand, covering it with his own as he held it against his chest. Her brow furrowed and a soft sound of distress passed her lips before she relaxed again and somehow, impossibly, snuggled closer. Damon reveled in the moment, awash in disbelief as – for the first time in his life – he actually got the damn girl.

And yet, something was still telling him to go.

_What the fuck is wrong with me? _he wondered, squeezing his eyes shut and tightening his grip on Elena's hand. _She _had wanted this. _She _had come to him of her own free will, eager for the fight and desperate to prove to both of them that they'd survived their latest life or death experience. He'd done nothing to manipulate her, yet he still felt the heavy weight of responsibility, of guilt.

"_She doesn't need someone else to test her strength, Damon."_

Damon's trailed his hand down Elena's bare back, slipping it beneath the sheet pooled at her waist to curl his fingers around her hip. He held on, clinging to her as if somehow the reality of her soft skin and her presence in his bed, would drown out the voice in his head telling him he had to run, now, before he did something to hurt her. After last night there was no denying that Elena's feelings for him – ill-advised and insane as they might be – were real and intense and the longer he let this thing between them play out the more damage he'd do when he inevitably fucked it up.

And he would. That was an unequivocal certainty.

"_My lie would have kept us together. Yours would have torn us apart."_

Elena had asked him once to be the better man and somehow it had happened. Long before they'd fallen into bed together in Savannah, loving her, being with her, had brought him a sense of contentment. It wasn't that he curbed his impulses or made sure he was on his best behavior, he didn't _have _those impulses and his behavior just…_was_. Elena simply _made _him a better man, which meant that when something happened that tripped his temper and he faltered, it wouldn't be a little slip, but a colossal fuck-up of epic proportions. Cutting ties now would save both of them a lot of pain.

Everything in him was telling him he should leave.

But, goddammit, he didn't _want_ to.

A door opened downstairs, pulling him away from his thoughts as he opened his eyes. Muffled footsteps followed, traveling through the house to the kitchen. Glancing down at Elena, he saw that the quick, light sounds hadn't even made her stir.

Stefan was home.

_Either that or Caroline was breaking in to make breakfast,_ he mused, staring at the ceiling as he listened intently for more clues as to what his brother was doing. Stefan presented Damon with an entirely new set of worries – concern for Elena's safety, dread for the day Stefan decided to go back to animal blood, fear for the moment when her capacity for forgiveness led to her and Stefan's eventual reunion.

_Fuck. _

Damon brought Elena's hand to his lips, brushing a kiss against her knuckles before gently slipping out of her grasp. Again, she frowned in her sleep, noting his absence but too far under to do more than reach for the pillow he's been using and bury her face in it. He pulled the sheets that had been pooled at her waist up over her shoulders, trailing his fingers through her hair before walking away from the bed.

He needed to talk to Stefan. By now, his brother had figured out that Katherine was gone, taking whatever calming effect she'd had on him with her, and Elena would be at risk. He dressed quickly, taking a few extra seconds to take care of the bag she'd thrown at him along with its spilled contents. Whether he stayed or left, it wouldn't be today and it didn't take him long to pack. He glanced at her every few seconds as he silently opened and closed drawers to make sure she didn't wake up. The past few months – hell, the past _year_ – had been rough on her and she could use the sleep.

And he _really _liked the way she looked in his bed.

Gazing at her longingly one last time, Damon closed the door to his bedroom and headed downstairs. He found Stefan in the kitchen, sitting at the table and wearing the same torn and bloodstained clothes he'd worn the night before. Damon noted his disheveled appearance and the mug in his hand without comment as he made his way to the coffee maker. The pot was empty, the machine turned off and as he inhaled, scenting the air, he discovered why. His brother wasn't drinking coffee.

He was drinking blood.

_Well, that happened a lot faster than I expected, _he thought sourly. "That's not human," he said aloud, opening the cupboard and retrieving the coffee beans. "When did you go back on the bunny diet?"

"A few days ago," Stefan replied, taking a sip and grimacing slightly at what Damon could only imagine was like drinking bathtub gin after a month of single-malt scotch.

"Why?" Damon asked warily.

"I needed clarity," he said, tipping the mug so the thick blood coated the insides.

Damon nodded before turning his attention back to the coffee preparations. The conversation had suddenly become a minefield. "Did you find it?"

"Still working on it," Stefan said, gazing thoughtfully at the contents of the mug. "But I think I'm almost there."

Damon silently measured the beans before dumping the amount he wanted into the grinder. The sounds of the machine filled the air for a few seconds, giving him a chance to consider the fact that Stefan had returned to animal blood of his own volition. Half a minute later, he poured the fresh grounds into the filter, casting a sidelong glance at his brother and wondering what that meant. Rather than asking, however, he poked at the issue with the sharpest stick he could find. "Katherine's gone. She left last night."

"I know," Stefan said, taking another, longer drink. Setting the cup carefully on the table, he waited until Damon looked at him again before raising a brow and asking. "How's Elena?"

_Touché._

Hearing Elena's name fall from Stefan's lips sentDamon's protective instincts into overdrive. He considered evading the question. Animal blood or not, Savannah and the bloodlust were still close and he didn't want to say anything that might push his brother over the edge.

Then again, Elena was safe upstairs and Damon could catch Stefan and break his neck before he made it to the kitchen door.

"She's upstairs. Asleep," he answered nonchalantly, choosing a mug for himself as the coffee began to brew. As an afterthought, he took down a mug for Elena as well. It wasn't breakfast in bed, but it would suffice.

Stefan nodded at his response, glancing toward the window that overlooked the backyard. "She's okay then? She went through a lot last night."

The observation felt like an accusation of neglect, making Damon bristle with indignation. "She's fine," he replied shortly, pouring coffee into one of the cups and taking a scalding gulp that seared his throat. The pain lasted only seconds and managed to take some of the bite out of his temper as it faded.

Belatedly, he realized he should have gone into the basement and grabbed a blood bag or two. _I'm going to have to be more careful,_ he decided, watching Stefan drain the rest of the blood from his mug. He couldn't allow another Savannah, another five day stretch without blood that left Elena vulnerable while Stefan's loyalties were still in question, to happen.

There were other ways to be vulnerable, however, and against those threats, Damon had very little ammunition.

"Damon-."

"I'm not giving her up," he declared quietly, surprising himself. He hadn't consciously made the decision, but Stefan's return to animal blood had tipped the scales. If the past few days hadn't been a fluke born of necessity and Stefan really had found a way to make peace between his dueling natures, then his brother had already won half the battle back into Elena's heart.

_Tennyson is a fucking hack_, Damon decided as he tried to imagine going back to being the odd man out, to wanting what his brother had. Damon would have rather not loved Elena at all then to lose her now.

He waited for the guilt to rip through him as the humanity he'd done such an excellent job of ignoring until he'd returned to Mystic Falls reminded him that Stefan had jumped off the deep end for _him_, but it never came. Letting out a breath, he continued. "Not for you, not for anybody. I know that whatever..._this _is between Elena and I won't last. I'll screw it up or she'll come to her senses. Probably both, but I don't care. I've never been one to do the right thing and I'm not going to start now. I love her, Stefan."

His brother studied him with an inscrutable expression before leaning back in his chair and nodding. "I'm leaving."

"Okay, that's…," _Not what I was expecting. _Damon eyed his brother, confusion darkening his gaze. "You're _what_?"

"I'm leaving Mystic Falls," Stefan said, adding specificity to his abrupt announcement, but not clarifying it. Stunned, Damon watched as he rose from the table and made his way over to the sink to rinse out his mug. The idea of Stefan being out of town and away from Elena was infinitely appealing…and way too good to be true.

"Ah, Stefan? Don't you think, maybe, you're overreacting?" he asked, setting his coffee on the counter. "I mean, I'll rip your heart out if you try anything with Elena, but I didn't mean you had to leave town." He paused, and his mouth hitched up in a smirk. "I'm not that fucking insecure."

"Aw, you want me to stay," Stefan offered him a wry grin as he clapped him on the shoulder. "I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me, Big Brother."

Rolling his eyes, Damon shoved his hand away and took another sip of his coffee. "You can do whatever the hell you want, just don't try and say I ran you out of town."

"Well, don't worry about it," Stefan said. "I'm not leaving because of you and Elena."

"Then why are you?" Damon asked as his initial surprise faded and made room for another bout of indignation. "Everybody just risked their necks to bring you back. You've been home for less than a week and you're already planning your escape. That's great."

Taking a moment to answer, Stefan finally admitted. "I'm going to find Katherine."

"_What?_" Damon asked incredulously. In the past week he'd noticed the bond between the two – hell, he'd _heard _it – but he'd chalked it up to blood-induced insanity. Now Stefan was talking about actively seeking her out? He'd obviously lost his mind for good this time. "Katherine. You're going to find Katherine?"

"Yup," Stefan nodded.

"By choice."

"I love her," he said simply, as if that somehow explained everything. Damon could have understood it if Stefan had been talking about Elena. There was no limit to what he'd do for her, but _Katherine?_

"Jesus Christ, _why_?" Damon demanded.

The faintest hint of longing colored Stefan's expression as he smiled. "She accepts me. She helped me accept myself."

Damon shook his head in disbelief, finishing his coffee and setting the mug on the counter. His brother was a fucking enigma. It was just that simple. "I will never understand you. First, you give up Elena to save my sorry ass and now you're willingly saddling yourself with Katherine. What the hell is wrong with you?"

"It defies reason," Stefan admitted dryly, his smile widening. "No, I told you. Katherine was like the missing piece. Finding her just made everything…fit."

Damon opened his mouth to argue further, changing his mind at the last second as he realized that Stefan had a point. Something about his latest fall off the wagon was different and as much as he loathed the idea of giving Katherine credit, there had to be _some _explanation. "Alright, whatever. So, is this who you are, now? Jedi Master Stefan, drinking puppy blood and using the Force for good, rather than ill?"

"I haven't mastered anything," Stefan replied, shaking his head and holding out a hand. Narrowing his eyes, Damon saw them tremble slightly before his brother curled his fingers into fists and shoved them into his pockets. "I don't know if I've really figured out how to balance my humanity with the vampire side, but I've never felt like this before. I feel like, maybe I can-."

"Walk _on _the edge instead of falling over it?" Damon suggested.

"Yeah, maybe," Stefan nodded, chuckling softly despite the traces of strain and fatigue around his eyes. "Look…I'm grateful that you were all willing to come after me. I know that everybody risked their lives and I also know that they wouldn't have done it if it hadn't been for you. So, thanks, brother."

"You're welcome," Damon said, realizing with surprise and a pang of sadness that Stefan was telling him goodbye. "When are you leaving?"

"Soon," he said, making his way across the kitchen to the door. "I want to give Katherine a head start. She needs the time and it will make things more interesting." He smirked over his shoulder, earning a laugh from Damon.

"You are definitely not the Stefan I knew."

"You're right," he agreed, looking at him pointedly and holding his gaze. "That Stefan's gone and there's no going back. To any of it."

_To Elena. _Understanding the full meaning behind Stefan's words, something loosened in Damon's chest – a tightness that he hadn't realized had been there until it slowly disappeared. His brother wasn't conceding defeat in the battle for Elena's heart, he was withdrawing entirely. His goals, his desires had changed. _He _had changed.

Pausing at the doorway, Stefan offered one more parting thought. "You know, I always kinda figured we'd end up here."

"What, me with Elena and you with Katherine?" Damon scoffed.

"Katherine was a surprise," Stefan conceded. "But you and Elena…I hated it. It's still…weird, but…I saw it coming. For what it's worth, I think you'll be fine."

Stefan backed away, heading for the stairs and taking them two at a time on his way to the second floor. _Hopefully, to take a shower, _Damon mused as he put his mug in the sink and tried to avoid the heavy, life-altering stuff for a moment. Preparing Elena's coffee, he realized that Stefan had essentially given him his blessing to be with her. Damon wanted to be irritated. He and Elena didn't need permission to be together.

However, as he ascended the stairs, one coffee with cream in hand, he decided that maybe Stefan's support was a good thing. With his track record for self-destruction and a veritable minefield of a conversation waiting for him on the other side of his bedroom door, Damon wasn't in a position to turn down his brother's approval.

He was going to need all the help he could get.

* * *

><p>Elena drifted slowly from sleep to consciousness, stubbornly lingering in that delicious space between for as long as possible. Burying her face into Damon's pillow, she breathed him in, reliving the highlights of the previous night. Every inch of her body felt used in the best way possible and they hadn't resolved a damn thing, but she was too deliriously happy and content to care. In Savannah, there hadn't been time and she'd been too overwhelmed to properly enjoy just how… <em>good <em>it felt to finally be with Damon after fighting it for so long.

_Of course, it doesn't hurt that he lives up to the hype, _she thought, her cheeks flushing as she grinned into the pillow.

She knew they still had a lot to discuss. She certainly wasn't about to let him off the hook for planning his own death, but the sense of desperation with which she'd yelled at him the night before had been replaced by a calm certainty. They'd work it out. They had to. There was no way she could give him up now. Contentedly, she reached for him, stretching her arm across the bed and found…nothing.

Lifting her head, she opened her eyes and stared at the empty mattress beside her. Frowning, she rolled over, clutching the sheet to her naked chest with one hand while she propped herself up with the other. The room was empty.

"Damon?" she called, her voice rough and unused as the last tendrils of blissful half-sleep faded into complete wakefulness. Pale light found its way around the dark curtains, casting long shadows across the floor. The huge bed seemed to grow even larger until she felt small and vulnerable as she looked around the bedroom. The door was closed, the bathroom dark and silent.

She was alone.

_Don't panic, _she thought. There were a multitude of perfectly logical, non-panic worthy reasons for Damon _not _to be there. She sat up, trying to think of one as she looked for her clothes. He was probably just getting breakfast – or blood – and he'd let her sleep because he'd planned on returning right away.

_That's it, _she decided, retrieving her pants from the floor on the left side of the bed. He'd be back in a few minutes and they'd work out their differences like adults. Taking the sheet with her, she crawled to the end of the bed and leaned down to grab her cami. _Afterwards, maybe we can have a repeat of last night,_ she mused, shaking the wrinkles out of her shirt before searching for her sweatshirt.

And then she froze.

_Or maybe not._

Damon's bag – and everything in it – was gone. For several minutes, Elena hung halfway off the bed, staring in disbelief at the spot where she'd last seen it as her brain failed to grasp the implications. A vise locked around her lungs and squeezed, however, as her heart quickly understood. The reasons she'd imagined for Damon's absence sounded like so much wishful thinking when stacked against the very obvious and highly probable truth.

He'd left her.

"No," she whispered, retreating from the edge of the bed to huddle against the pillows. A yawning emptiness replaced the contentment she'd felt only moments before as she wrapped the sheet around her body and drew her knees to her chest. She'd fallen asleep in his arms, emotionally high on the reality of being with him. Now, she felt like someone had shoved her off of a cliff and she couldn't even catch her breath to scream.

_How could he do this? _she wondered, indignation momentarily giving her focus. How could he leave? She'd told him she loved him, had risked turning into a vampire _for him_, and he'd left her without so much as a goodbye. Not that such a gesture would have mattered. She still would have fought him and called him every kind of coward for walking away from her – from _them – _just as she'd finally accepted the truth he'd known all along. The _something _between them was real and deep and it had been growing since the moment they'd met.

A few hot tears slipped down her cheeks as Elena covered her face with her hands. The anger receded and painful regret took its place.

This was all her fault.

Months ago, Damon had appeared in her bedroom, drunk and desperate, begging her to stop lying and admit that she felt it too, this _thing _between them that was driving him insane. Instead, she'd broken his heart on purpose, perpetuating the lie because she'd been afraid. Afraid of the way her pulse had raced every time she'd been alone with him, of the way her eyes had always been drawn to him the second he entered a room and of a million other little things that had threatened everything she'd thought she'd known about herself. Damon had been the villain, the monster and how could she have been falling in love with someone like that?

Because she _had _been falling in love with him – since the moment they'd first met, it had been inevitable. Unavoidable.

Lowering her head to her knees, Elena tried to breathe around the ache in her chest and the horrific conviction that her own arrogance had led to this. She'd made an art out of taking Damon for granted, shoving him away and reeling him back in depending on her mood and now it was coming back to haunt her. She needed him, _loved _him and he was gone.

She had nobody to blame but herself.

"Elena?"

Gasping, she lifted her head as unshed tears blurred her vision. Damon stood in the doorway, dressed in his usual black from head to toe, holding a mug of coffee in his hand and looking so beautiful it almost hurt.

_He isn't gone._

Watching her carefully, he entered the room and set the mug on the nightstand. Gingerly, he sat on the bed, close to her but just out of reach and asked. "Are you okay?"

"I…," she began, her voice sticking in her throat as her heart struggled to keep up with the rollercoaster of emotions. Wordlessly, she shook her head, shifting on the mattress to wrap her arms around him and press her face into the dark material of his shirt.

Silently, she clung to him as he returned the embrace, sliding an arm around her waist and slipping the other beneath her hair and down her back. Reassured by his physical presence, relief came to her in a slow flood of feeling that started in her heart, working its way outward. The frantic spiral of her thoughts ground to a halt around the only thing that mattered.

Damon hadn't left her. She had another chance.

"Elena-."

"I thought you were gone," she whispered into his shoulder. After a moment, deciding she could speak without dissolving into an emotional puddle, she lifted her head and met his confused gaze. "I woke up and you weren't here. I thought you'd left me."

Taken aback, Damon stared at her a moment, before briefly closing his eyes as his shoulders sagged on a sigh. "I was just downstairs."

"Your bag was gone," Elena said, blinking back what remained of her tears. The longer he held her, the sillier she felt, although she'd gladly take the embarrassment over the alternative.

"My bag?" Damon glanced toward the empty floor before shaking his head. "Elena, I was never going anywhere."

She frowned. "But then…why were you packing?"

"_Un_packing."

Elena gaped, certain she'd heard wrong. "What?"

"I was unpacking," he repeated, his lips curving into a hint of a smirk at her confusion. Framing her face with his hands, he smoothed away the tracks of her tears. "From our Save Stefan road trip. I hadn't had a chance. Been a little busy."

She stared at him in shock, shaking her head as heat rose to her cheeks. Vividly, she recalled the way she'd flung the bag at him like a being possessed. When she found her voice all she could do was parrot him dumbly. "You were _unpacking_?"

"Yes," Damon nodded.

"Oh my god," Elena said, clutching the sheets tighter as she drew back and leaned against the pillows. Staring at him in bewildered indignation, she demanded. "Why didn't you say anything when I started screaming at you about leaving?"

The smirk grew as he shrugged and retrieved the cup of coffee from the nightstand. Handing it to her, he said. "Where would the fun have been in that?"

"_Damon_," she said, trying to glare at him as she fought a smile and accepted the mug with as much dignity as she could muster wrapped up naked in a sheet and feeling like an idiot. "If I'd known you weren't going anywhere, I wouldn't have yelled at you."

"Yeah, you would've," he said with certainty, arranging the pillows so he could lean against them as well. "You were looking for a fight and I've always been your favorite target."

He said it without a hint of accusation, making her feel like a supreme bitch because she knew he was right. Unable to meet his gaze any longer, she took a sip of coffee – made _exactly _how she liked it, which only made her feel worse – and swallowed. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" he asked with a shrug, waiting for her to look at him before he spoke again. "You weren't wrong. I may not have been leaving, but I still lied to you."

She fell silent, studying his expression as she let that sink in. The lack of regret or apology in his crystal blue eyes allowed a small spark of anger to flare within her, leading her back to emotionally solid ground. Touching his cheek, she stroked her thumb over the rough, day-old stubble along his jaw. "I don't know what I hate more…the fact that you were planning to die or that you lied to me about it."

"It wasn't much of a plan," Damon admitted. "Bonnie needed more Power to take out Klaus. The sacrifice was the only way. I was the best choice."

Elena swallowed past the lump in her throat as she leaned in closer and whispered fiercely. "No, you weren't. And you still should have told me."

"Would that have made you feel better about it?" he asked, taking her hand and threading his fingers with hers. "Because it wouldn't have changed anything. I still would have gone through with it."

"Even knowing that I love you? Because I do, Damon. I love you," Elena challenged him quietly, her stomach tying itself into knots once more. She was close enough to notice the way his breathing stopped as she uttered those three little words, but she pressed the issue. "You'd still want to leave me?"

"It was never about leaving you, Elena," he insisted, squeezing her fingers. "It was about _protecting _you. I couldn't let you face Klaus without making sure you'd survive."

_Without making sure I survive…_

Suddenly self-conscious, she focused on her coffee for a moment rather than his unapologetic honesty. He may have been comfortable in the knowledge that he'd made the right choice, but she regretted keeping secrets from him. "I should have told you about the blood," she admitted, abruptly switching topics as her guilt rose. "I would have asked _you_, but…"

"But what?"

She raised a brow and answered with certainty. "I knew you'd say no."

"You're damn right I would have," he replied with a snort. "I can't believe Caroline went along with it."

"Hey, leave her out of this, she was just helping out her best friend," Elena said pointedly. Narrowing her eyes, she asked a question to which she was sure she already knew the answer. "Why would you have said no?"

"Because it's not what you want," he stated definitively, looking at her like she'd lost her mind for even asking. "You _don't _want to be a vampire. I know that better than anybody."

"What if you're wrong?" she asked, gauging his reaction carefully. "What if…I change my mind?"

"You won't," he said with finality.

"Oh really?" she replied, spurred by the certainty in his eyes to prove him wrong. Or at least show him that she wasn't the same girl who'd completely lost it when he'd forced his blood on her. She hadn't forgotten the conflicting emotions of relief and disappointment when she'd realized that she hadn't turned in the tomb. In a way, she wished she _had _died, just to take the choice out of her hands. Trailing her finger from his chin, down to his throat, she curled it around the collar of his t-shirt and said. "I didn't want to die in that tomb, Damon. I didn't want Jeremy to have to bury the last of his family. Being a vampire is better than being dead."

"Some people think it's the same thing," he teased.

Elena rolled her eyes, refusing to take that particular bait. "There also might have been a small part of me that was upset at the idea of finally realizing I was in love with you and not having a chance to do anything about it," she added, her gaze dropping to his mouth as her lips curved into the barest hint of a smirk.

"How small?"

"Tiny," she replied, curling more fingers into the fabric of his shirt as she held the coffee mug in her other hand. Lifting her gaze, she frowned in mock consideration. "Miniscule, really."

"That sounds about right," he nodded, wrapping an arm around her waist and bringing them so close she could feel his breath on her lips.

"I don't know if I want to turn," she confessed, watching him carefully as she tried to keep her tone light despite the gravity of the conversation. "But I do know that I want _you –_ today and tomorrow and for as far into the future as I can see. I'm in love with a vampire. I have to at least consider forever."

Damon stared at her, wide eyed and frozen, as he worked through the enormity of what she'd just insinuated. The grip he had on her hip had tightened to the point of pain and the mug of coffee in her hands felt like it weighed a hundred pounds, but she was too interested in him to move.

Finally, he swallowed, looking away from her for a moment, before collecting himself and uttering. "There is no fucking way…"

"Why?" she asked, amused by the look of almost comical horror on his face. "Don't you want me around forever?"

Another stunned silence answered her before Damon swore and yanked her down to the mattress. Elena squealed with laughter, trying to keep the hot coffee from splashing all over the bed. "Damon, stop. What are you doing? I'm going to spill this all over the place."

"Fuck," he grumbled, acting like it was the biggest chore in the world to return the mug to the nightstand. He came back, rolling on top of her and bracing his arms on either side of her head. "Ask me again."

The intensity of his gaze was overwhelming, making her pulse skitter as she asked breathlessly. "Do you want me around for-?"

He kissed her before she could finish, a deep, soul-searing kiss that she felt with every fiber of her being. Elena sighed into his mouth, tasting coffee and faint traces of copper that aroused an intense longing from deep within her. She felt her cheeks flush with heat as she remembered how hard and fast she'd come apart at the thought of Damon sinking his teeth into her flesh and drinking from her. _I'll have to tell him about that sometime. Soon. _

"Of course, I want you," he vowed, pulling away far too soon. Elena's eyes fluttered open and she found herself gazing up at him. "Forever. But only if that's what you want, and it's not, so that's the _end_ of this conversation," he added. She tried to protest, but he shook his head, silencing her. "Don't. Because this is just the beginning and I have plenty of time to fuck it up. So, don't say anything you can't take back."

"You won't fuck it up," she stated with unwavering conviction as she pulled him down for another kiss. Now that she'd stopped questioning it, she knew that what she and Damon shared was bigger than any fight. The love between them had steadily grown, surviving everything that fate had thrown at them to test it. Damon could do his worst – or she could – but Elena believed with everything she had that there was nothing either of them could do to destroy it.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered, as his phone rang, bringing an unfortunate end to the amazing things he was doing to the sensitive skin of her throat.

"Are you going to get that?" Elena asked as he reached into his pocket and retrieved his cell phone. With a scowl he silenced the ring and tossed it onto the bed beside them.

"No, I'm busy," he replied succinctly, returning his attention to her mouth. He reached below her body, working to untangle the sheet she'd wrapped herself in so tightly. Elena had just forgotten the interruption when the phone started ringing again.

"Maybe you should answer," she suggested with a laugh as Damon swore yet again.

"I know who it is and I don't want to talk to them," he insisted as he moved in to kiss her again. Elena succumbed for a brief moment before taking his face in her hands and pulling away.

Framing his face, she asked. "What if it's important?"

"It's Bonnie," he replied derisively. "I can guarantee it's not."

Elena gave him a pointed look as she held him off with a hand on his chest and picked up the phone. Damon groaned as she hit the _Talk _button and dropped his head to the crook of her shoulder. Threading her fingers through his hair, she held him there as she grinned.

"Damon, what the hell? I've been calling you all morning," Bonnie cried, her worried voice carrying over the line before Elena could speak. "I can't find Elena. She disappeared last night without telling anybody where she was going and she didn't take her cell phone."

Damon lifted his head and raised a brow. Elena shrugged and silently mouthed. "Your fault."

He shook his head, kissing the hollow at the base of her throat as he continued to work on the sheet hiding the rest of her bare skin. Clueless as to what she was interrupting, Bonnie continued. "I know she's mad – at both of us – and I'm really worried about what she might do. You know how she gets when she's like this, and I…I really want to tell her how sorry I am-."

"Hey, Bonnie," Elena finally interrupted as Damon started pulling the loosened sheet down her body, covering every new inch of exposed flesh with open-mouthed kisses.

"Elena? Why are you…," her friend paused and Elena could almost see her shoulders sag in understanding. "You're with Damon, aren't you? That's why he's been ignoring me."

"Yeah, we've been, we're…" Elena struggled to hold back a moan of pleasure as Damon pulled the sheet below her breasts and closed his lips over an already tight nipple. Swallowing, she managed to utter. "Talking."

Damon chuckled, dragging his teeth over the stiff peak as he pulled away. "Is that what we're doing?"

"Oh…my god. You…you're," Bonnie stammered, clearly horrified. Swallowing audibly, she collected herself. "I'm so sorry. In so many ways…I'll talk to you later, Elena."

"I think that's a good idea," she agreed, ending the call and tossing the phone aside without saying goodbye. Damon's mouth was on hers before she could draw a full breath, using his tongue to explore her mouth with a single-minded purpose.

"You know, we're not done yet," Elena cautioned between kisses, trying to stop him before he blazed a trail back down her body and made her lose the thread of their conversation completely. "You need to promise me, Damon, no more lies. No more secret suicide plots. That's the only way this is going to work."

He groaned in frustration, shifting slightly to prop himself up on an elbow. Resting his head against his fist, he studied her for a moment before revealing. "I told Stefan once that I wasn't afraid to be the bad guy if it meant keeping you alive." He paused, gently brushing his knuckles against her cheek. "That still stands."

"_Damon,"_ she protested.

"_Elena,_" he teased, tucking her hair behind her ear. "You're going to have to trust me."

"Trust works both ways," she insisted.

"I know," he replied, keeping his voice light as he held her gaze. She knew the simple agreement was as close to a promise as she would get. It wasn't Damon's style to butter her up with pretty words when he knew full well he might have to break them.

"You're not going to make this easy, are you?" she sighed.

"What about our relationship up to this point makes you think I even know the definition of easy?" he asked with a smirk. "Face it, Elena, if you wanted easy, you wouldn't be here."

Elena bit her lip to fight the grin that was threatening to overtake her face. He was right. She didn't want easy, she wanted Damon and every messy, infuriating, exhilarating and breathtaking thing that went with him.

Taking his face in her hands, she pulled him down, stopping just as his lips brushed hers. He could have easily closed the distance between them, but he waited, his eyes alight with curiosity and anticipation. Elena moved her mouth over his, barely giving him a taste before saying. "I'm not going to make it easy on you either."

Damon raised a brow. "You promise?" he asked.

Elena smiled as she kissed him, giving him the only answer he needed. The remains of the vise around her heart melted away as the kiss deepened. _Easy or not, _she thought, settling into the connection and knowing she was going to be spending the rest of the day in bed with him, _this is going to be a hell of a lot of fun._

* * *

><p><em>AN: As usual, my beta is amazing. Also, there's an epilogue coming, so don't say goodbye just yet. ;p<em>


	33. The Way We Weren't

_AN: This chapter took me longer than usual to actually write. I knew what I wanted to do and as much as I was looking forward to bringing this fic to a close, part of me didn't want to. I've had way too much fun plotting this out with my beta, writing it and sharing it with you. Your responses have been so wonderful and encouraging and I thank you for sticking with me as this little Delena story I envisioned became a full-on ensemble piece. _

_But all good things must come to an end, as they say, and here is the end of Self-Inflicted Wounds. I can't thank my beta enough for being a rockstar and making this SO much better than it would have been if I'd been on my own. She'll tell you otherwise, but don't listen. ;p_

_Incidentally, kudos to the handful of people who figured out that my fic title and chapter titles are all episode titles from a scifi masterpiece called Farscape. It's epic, peeps. Seriously. You should check it out. _

_Now, I'll shut up, post and cross my fingers that you all enjoy this as much as you've enjoyed the previous thirty-two chapters. _

Epilogue – The Way We Weren't

Elena was running late. Again.

At the wheel of Damon's Camaro, she rolled through a stop sign before taking a corner way too fast. She winced at the sound of squealing tires, knowing that Damon would have killed her if he'd been with her in the car. Of course, _he_ could drive like a maniac, but the difference – as he lovedto point out – was that the car was _his. _If he wanted to drive it straight into a brick wall at eighty miles-per-hour that was his prerogative.

Never mind the fact that _he _was the one who'd made her late today.

_I have got to quit staying over on school nights, _she chided herself, turning into the high school parking lot and whipping the car into the first spot she found. She killed the engine, grabbed her backpack and shoved the keys into her pocket. Opening the door, she almost forgot to lock it in her haste to beat the bell. She headed toward the front doors, threading her arms through the straps of her backpack as she ran.

The five minute warning bell rang as Elena ducked inside and the bustling throng of students began moving toward their first period classes. Sighing in exasperation, she wished – not for the first time – that her locker wasn't on the opposite side of the building. Determinedly, she made her way through the crowd, so focused on not getting trampled that she didn't notice Caroline waiting near her locker until her best friend shouted her name.

"Elena!" Caroline cried, smiling brightly as Elena literally pushed her way through a cluster of underclassmen attempting to get in a last minute cram session in front of her locker. The reigning Miss Mystic Falls looked her over with an appraising eye before announcing. "You look exhausted."

"Nice to see you too, Caroline," she replied with a strained smile. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she went to work on opening her locker, messing up the combination twice before the lock finally popped open. With jerky, frustrated movements, she hung her backpack on the hook inside and began gathering her books.

"You must have had a late night," Caroline guessed with a knowing smirk, completely oblivious to or deliberately ignoring Elena's bad mood. "How _is _Damon these days?"

The mention of his name and the memories it evoked worked like a balm on Elena's frazzled nerves. She briefly closed her eyes before glancing at her friend out of the corner of her eye, a sly smile curving her lips. "He's… good."

"I'll bet," Caroline replied as Elena turned back to her locker to hide the blush staining her cheeks. She'd been running late that morning because Damon had decided to prove just how _good _he could be by joining her in the shower. What had started out as a quick, fifteen minutes had become a hazy succession of mind-blowing orgasms that had only stopped because the hot water had run out.

She'd had less than twenty minutes before the first bell rang and Damon – wearing nothing but an annoyingly smug smile on his perfect face – had watched her run around like a crazy person as she'd dressed, gathered her books and flew out the door. She'd cursed them both the entire time - herself for having been so easily distracted and him for having made it so damn worth it.

Elena grinned, recalling the time - not long after they'd officially gotten together - when she'd actually worried that acting on their nearly combustible chemistry might diminish it.

_Yeah, not so much. _

Nine months had passed since they'd killed Klaus and during that time no one had tried to kill them, take over the town, or use her blood to break some kind of ancient curse. In fact, the Original's death had ushered in a period of almost eerie calm. The Council still met and the county medical examiner still reported the occasional 'animal attack', but they were isolated incidents; just the odd nomadic werewolf or vampire passing through.

Elena had tentatively embraced the sudden peace, gradually accepting it as reality. Her new normal had begun the day before school had started with Senior Prank Night. She had been able to enjoy all the teenage rites of passage without worrying that a psychotic vampire might show up and kill everybody she loved. After a year of hell, she'd been able to focus on school, her friends and her boyfriend like a normal eighteen year old.

Even better had been the fact that her boyfriend had been one Damon Salvatore.

Elena hadn't been surprised when Damon had proven to be much better at the 'relationship thing' than he'd expected to be. She'd always known that beneath the sarcasm and the swagger, had lain the heart of a hopeless romantic, but what she hadn't been prepared for were the ways that he'd expressed it.

Damon wasn't one for clichés. Rather than moonlight and roses, jewelry and chocolate, he'd showed over and over that the way she took her coffee hadn't been the only thing he'd noticed. He listened to and remembered _everything. _Without calling attention to it, he'd surprise her with a dinner of her favorite foods. He'd stocked his already impressive DVD collection with all of her favorite movies - even the supremely cheesy and awful romantic comedies she loved to watch when she was sick.

On a Wednesday in the middle of October, he'd sent her a text, asking her to meet him in the parking lot during lunch. When she'd arrived, he'd given her a brand new passport and told her to get in the car. Curious and excited, she'd blown off school without a second thought and gone with him to the airport. They'd already been touching down in Barcelona when she'd remembered telling him about the class trip to Spain she'd missed the summer before her junior year.

The summer her parents had died.

Damon hadn't said a word about them, the conversation nor the missed trip, and Elena had struggled to hold back the tears. It had been the best week of her life and completely worth the missed school work and detention when she'd returned to Mystic Falls. On the beaches of Ibiza, she'd realized that during the months when she'd been doing everything she could to hate him and not think about him, he'd memorized every word she'd ever said.

_That _was how Damon did romance. Elena did everything she could to be worthy of it.

Despite the peace and the romance, the relationship wasn't perfect. Their individual stubbornness led to plenty of small fights and even a few bigger ones. Occasionally, Elena feared that without an enemy to focus on and with a busy girlfriend who was trying to make up for a year of mediocre grades and missed exams that Damon might be…

_Incredibly_ bored.

Whenever she'd mentioned the idea, he'd called her crazy and assured her that he was happy and that she was everything he'd ever wanted. Elena always believed him of course – hating herself for succumbing to her doubts – because at the end of the day, she believed in _them. _

No matter what.

"Well, I'm glad that you're in such a good mood," Caroline said, pulling Elena from her musings and back to the reality of the high school hallway. Her friend's smile became strained as she added. "Because I have something I want to ask you and I'm not sure how you'll react."

"You won't know until you ask," Elena replied lightly, doing her best to ignore the sudden spike of anxiety that twisted her stomach into a hard knot. Nine months of relative peace hadn't been long enough to dull her knee-jerk reaction to anything that even hinted at 'bad'.

"I was…" Caroline paused and took a deep breath, the rest of her words coming out in a rush. "I was wondering if you'd heard from Stefan."

Elena froze, her hand hovering in mid-air near the top shelf of her locker as her mind went momentarily blank at the unexpected mention of her ex-boyfriend. She hadn't thought about him in weeks, let alone heard from him. He'd left Mystic Falls without saying goodbye – to her, at least – and she'd been surprisingly okay with that.

Although, she'd been slightly unsettled that he'd left to seek out Katherine.

Giving herself a mental shake, she retrieved her book and told Caroline the truth. "I haven't. Stefan and I… don't talk much anymore."

Caroline winced. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up."

"No, it's okay," Elena promised, struggling to explain feelings that were still relatively new to her. Her brain hadn't quite caught up to her heart in terms of her ex. Sometimes it surprised her to think of her relationship with Stefan and feel only a bittersweet nostalgia for what they'd shared. "We needed the space. When Stefan comes back…it'll be fine." Pausing, she smiled and amended. "A little weird, but fine."

Caroline eyed her warily, but nodded as she twisted a lock of hair around her finger. "I hope so."

"You know, there _is_ someone else you could ask," Elena pointed out as she finished gathering her books and closed her locker.

"You think Stefan has talked to Bonnie?" Caroline asked hopefully.

Elena rolled her eyes. "Doubtful," she said, heading down the hallway in the direction of Alaric's classroom. "But I'm sure he's checked in with Damon."

"Uh, yeah, no," Caroline replied definitively.

"Why not?" Elena asked, chuckling at the way her friend furiously shook her head. "It's been nine months, Care."

"It's been two hundred and sixty-seven days," Caroline clarified. "And until Damon stops sending me text messages with pictures of all the places he can hide my staked body, I'm not talking to him."

"Wait. He's sending you _what_?" Elena demanded trying to be appalled on her behalf, but unable to hide the laughter in her eyes.

"It's not funny!" Caroline insisted, searching through her purse for her cell phone. "The last one was gross. I don't care if I am an undead creature of the night, I don't want to spend eternity rotting away on some pig farm in Kentucky."

"Oh my god, Caroline, you have to let it go," Elena said, fighting to hold back giggles of unsympathetic laughter. They came to a halt in the middle of the hallway as their classmates streamed around them. "Your blood kept me alive that night and Damon knows it. He's just messing with you because he can. If he was really upset, he'd be ignoring you, not harassing you."

Caroline pursed her lips and dropped her gaze to her phone, staring at it as the crowd began to thin. "Yeah, well…I still don't want to talk to him," she pouted stubbornly, throwing her phone into the depths of her bag and crossing her arms.

"I can ask him for you," Elena offered after a beat. Stefan wasn't exactly a taboo topic between them, but neither she nor Damon made an effort to talk about him.

"No, that's…that's okay," Caroline sighed, shrugging a shoulder as she met Elena's gaze. "It's not that big of a deal. I was just thinking about Stefan the other day and…well, anyway, I can always call him myself I suppose."

"Or…you could just ask Damon," Elena teased with a grin, backing down the hallway toward the classroom. "Seriously, Caroline, Mystic Falls isn't that big. You can't run from him forever."

"Two-hundred and sixty-seven days says otherwise," she retorted over her shoulder as she took off in the other direction toward her first period English class.

Elena chuckled as Caroline disappeared around the corner. She had to be wrong. There was no way it had been two-hundred and sixty-seven days since she and Damon had crossed paths. Mystic Falls really wasn't that big. Shaking her head in wry amusement, Elena abruptly turned around and nearly knocked Bonnie over.

"Oh! Bonnie, sorry," she said, taking a step back to give her friend some space. Immediately, concern replaced some of her good humor at the serious expression on the witch's face. "What's wrong?"

"I had the dream again," Bonnie explained without preamble, worry creasing her brow. Stifling an exasperated sigh, Elena looked longingly down the hallway. She didn't need to ask her friend for clarification, she'd been hearing about 'the dream' for months. Aside from her nagging concerns about Damon being bored in Mystic Falls, it was the only other topic guaranteed to start a fight between them.

The first time it had happened, a week after they'd defeated Klaus, Bonnie had called her in a panic, waking her from a deep sleep. Elena had been struggling to clear the cobwebs from her brain as her friend had peppered her with questions, demanding to know if she was still human. Lying next to her, Damon had snatched the phone from her hand and asked Bonnie what the hell she was talking about. After a series of terse reassurances that he hadn't turned anybody into anything, Bonnie had explained the accusation.

"I'm walking in the woods, searching for Elena because she's in danger, but I don't know why," Bonnie had explained as Damon had put the phone on speaker so Elena could hear as well. "I come to this huge cliff that shoots straight up out of the ground and there are rocks scattered around the base, like part of the cliff has collapsed. Not little rocks, but huge boulders with sharp edges. My heart starts beating faster and I can't breathe because somehow I know what I'm going to find."

Elena's heart had been in her throat, rendering her mute, so Damon had prodded Bonnie. After taking a moment to collect herself, she had continued. "You're lying on the rocks, broken and covered in blood. I know you've been pushed off the cliff even though I didn't see it happen. I'm crying and trying to get to you, but the rocks are sharp and I'm not even halfway there when you move. You open your eyes and sit up like the rocks are nothing. I can't speak, but I watch as you start to…to change. You-you were a vampire."

Elena had been overcome by a heady mixture of panic and expectation. Bonnie's dreams had been prophetic before and this one seemed particularly vivid. Damon, however, had dismissed it as nothing but an overactive imagination, a nightmare brought on by the ordeal with Klaus and the fact that Caroline had given Elena her blood. As the weeks had turned to months without so much as a hint of a threat on her life, she'd written the dream off as well.

Bonnie, however, had refused to let it go, and in the past nine months, she'd had the dream six times. This latest occurrence brought the grand total to seven and Elena was running out of ways to reassure her friend that her mortal life wasn't on the line.

"Elena, did you hear what I said?" Bonnie demanded in a low voice as she glanced nervously at the passing throng of students. "I had _the _dream. Again. That makes seven times."

"I know, I heard you," Elena murmured, preparing to explain yet again that she was very much human and – if Damon had anything to say about it – very much going to stay that way.

"That's all you can say?" she asked incredulously.

"What do you want me to say?" Elena countered. Lowering her voice, she inched closer. "It's just a dream, Bonnie."

"But what if it's not?" she pressed, grabbing Elena's arm. "What if it's…"

"A prophesy?" Elena concluded, raising a brow. "Bonnie, come on, we've been over this. If this was anything other than some kind of trauma induced nightmare it would have happened already."

After a long pause during which the hallway continued to empty, Bonnie offered her a small shrug, mumbling. "I know." A moment later, however, the urgency was back. "It's getting more detailed, though. I can, like, _smell _the forest and when you wake up, you're-."

"Have you ever heard of a prophetic dream taking so long to play out?" Elena interrupted before Bonnie could further hint at what Vampire Dream-Elena had done, driving the point home for what she hoped would be the last time.

Bonnie pursed her lips and took even longer to respond. "No."

"No," Elena repeated, smiling as she touched Bonnie's shoulder. "Look, I appreciate that you're worried about me."

"But-."

"But nothing," she shook her head. "Even if there is some truth to it – some truth that's taking its sweet time to materialize – Damon's not going to let me turn into a vampire, okay?"

Chewing her bottom lip, Bonnie eyed her with obvious indecision. There were only a handful of students left in the hallway and Elena clutched her books tightly to her chest as she waited for her friend to admit defeat. Finally, Bonnie sighed. "I know he won't. I'm sorry for being such a pain, it's just…it's so real, Elena."

"No, it's a dream," Elena assured her, already moving toward the last door on the left hand side of the hallway. "Remember that, Bonnie. It's only a dream."

Somewhat mollified, Bonnie smiled and headed off in the opposite direction for her first period independent study. _Where nobody will even notice if she's late_, Elena grumbled internally as she hurried down the hallway. Doors closed as she passed them and she braced for the sharp peal of the bell.

It rang just as she was about to duck into the room, making her stomach flip and fall somewhere around her feet. Alaric appeared in the doorway right on cue, hand poised on the handle as he watched her defeated approach with tired amusement.

"This is the third time this week, Elena," he said as she paused to take whatever he felt like dishing out. "Do I even need to ask why you were late?"

Elena felt her cheeks flush, but she held his gaze as she shrugged. "Do you want to?"

Closing his eyes, Alaric grimaced and ushered her further into the room before closing the door. He was equal parts horrified and relieved that she and Damon were together, doing everything but sticking his fingers in his ears and humming the Star-Spangled Banner to keep from hearing anything about what they did together. "Go. Sit. Just…try to be on time or people are going to start noticing that I'm letting it slide."

Elena nodded, biting her lip to stifle her relieved grin as she hurried toward an open seat near the back of the classroom. Her phone vibrated just as she slid gratefully into the chair. Casting a quick glance at Alaric, she pulled it out of her back pocket and checked the text message. Not surprisingly it was from Damon.

_Wanna play hookie? _

Sighing, Elena looked longingly at the clock. The final bell couldn't come fast enough.

* * *

><p>Katherine returned to her hotel in Las Vegas just before dawn. Passing quickly through the bright lights and the cacophony of sound emanating from the slot machines, roulette wheels and blackjack tables, she hurried to the elevators. Everywhere she looked, dull-eyed, die-hard gamblers stared back at her, hunched over their bets like washed-out zombies under the florescent lights. They looked as dead on the outside as she felt on the inside.<p>

Vegas was getting old.

Studying herself in the mirror while waiting for the elevator, Katherine surreptitiously traced her lips with a finger, searching for any errant specks of blood. She'd just fed on an Ivy League frat boy who's eyes had lit up like he'd hit the jackpot after she'd caught his eye in the seedy off-strip casino he'd been slumming in. For a moment, she'd felt triumphant as well, although for different reasons. The boy had been tall, broad shouldered and model perfect with brown hair and green eyes – her new _type._

Luring him out of the casino had been pathetically easy. Drunk on booze or her or a combination of both, he hadn't even flinched when she'd bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. Lingering at his throat, she'd tried to muster up a hint of the giddy bloodlust she used to feel before sinking her fangs into the pulsing vein of her chosen prey. The first spurt of blood as it hit her tongue and coated the back of her throat had always been the best. No liquor or drug had ever touched the high of that brief moment or the euphoric sensation of power and invincibility that had always accompanied it.

She had failed on all counts.

Suddenly, the boy had become a painful reminder of what she'd lost – _who_ she'd lost – rather than a distraction from the constant pain. Eager to have it over with, she'd sunk her teeth into his flesh, barely noticing as the blood had hit her tongue, barely feeling it as it had slid down her throat. She'd drained him within inches of his life, leaving him at the mouth of the alley for his friends to find before she'd hailed a cab and headed back to her hotel.

The elevator finally opened and she slipped inside, closing her eyes as the door shut out the maddening noise of the casino floor. In the past nine months she'd been in a different city nearly every week as she'd tried to outrun her demons – tried to outrun herself – but Stefan had haunted her wherever she went.

She missed him.

The boy she'd fed on that night was the latest in a long line of men who reminded her of him – especially in the eyes. Each day only intensified the longing in her heart and the ache in whatever passed for her soul as time refused to heal her wounds.

She never should have left him.

Leaving Stefan in Mystic Falls, letting fear and self-preservation get in the way of a chance at real happiness had been the biggest mistake of her very long life. Every day her need for him increased, growing as desperate as it was pathetic – and more than once she'd caught herself contemplating the sunrise without the protection of her lapis lazuli jewelry.

_It's fucking humiliating, _she thought dismally as the elevator doors opened and she made her way across the thick carpet to her room. _I'm as bad as Damon. _

Except _he'd _actually had the guts to go after what he wanted while she'd just…given up and run away.

Fuck. She was worse.

Using her key card, she entered her dark room and instantly sensed another presence in the shadows near the balcony. Betraying nothing, she closed the door and secured the deadbolt and chain before casually sauntering into the room and shrugging out of her jacket. Tossing it on the bed, she stretched like a cat and plotted her best course of attack. Without missing a step, she blurred across the room, pinning her would-be attacker to the wall by his throat.

"You picked the wrong room," she hissed, her fangs descending as heat bloomed around her eyes and her self-preservation instinct unfailingly kicked in.

"I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be," a familiar voice stated. Katherine started, shock forcing her features back to normal as recognition cut her bloodlust off at the knees. Unable to breathe and completely numb, she gaped, hardly daring to trust her eyes.

"Stefan," she murmured, her voice a ruined whisper in the quiet suite. This couldn't be real. She'd wished for him to appear like this so many times – no warning, no permission – just suddenly one day, he'd be there, demanding to be a part of her life. In her head, she'd taken him back a hundred times, having learned over the past nine months that the fears that had sent her running in the first place paled in comparison to the agony of being without him.

Of course, they'd just been fantasies. She'd never believed it would actually happen.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, cringing as the quiver in her voice betrayed her.

"What do you think?" he countered, raising a brow and – outwardly, at least – in complete control. His hands found their way to her hips, fingers betraying _him_ by trembling slightly as he brushed the thin strip of exposed skin below the hem of her tank top. She shuddered involuntarily as the touch turned possessive and he pulled her closer. "I've been following you."

In retaliation for her body's weakness, she squeezed his throat tighter. "How did you find me?"

"It was Damon's idea," he explained, staring at her face, drinking her in despite the bruising grip she had on him. "He had Sheriff Forbes put out an APB on your car. Even then it took me awhile to catch up to you. I finally found you in San Francisco."

_San Francisco… _Katherine quickly did the math. "That was three months ago."

Stefan shrugged, his lips curving into a smile despite the way she was cutting off his air supply. "I was picking my moment."

Traitorous tears began to burn behind her eyes as she gazed at him, unable to believe that he was real and yet terrified that he was. Abruptly, she released him, stumbling backwards down the single step into the living space before sinking onto the couch. Her body was shaking, overwhelmed by sensory overload. He'd followed her. She'd pushed him away with unequivocal finality and he'd come after her anyway. He'd _chosen _her. Squeezing her eyes shut against the tears, she murmured. "I told you to let me go."

"Yeah, well, I couldn't," he admitted, making his way silently across the plush carpet. Standing before her, he refused to continue until she met his gaze. The curtains were drawn, but some light managed to sneak into the room, revealing a hint of fear within the depths of the eyes that had plagued her all these months. She couldn't help but admire the courage with which he continued his confession unself-consciously. "I can't let go, Katherine. Neither can you."

Katherine shook her head, unable to deny the accusation. _Three months. _The short span of time was nothing in the grand scheme of her life, but she could only imagine what he'd seen, what pathetic depths he'd watched her sink to in her failed attempts to forget him.

"I get it," he said, somehow reading her mind. "I've spent my entire life looking for your substitute. Believe me, I get it. But the illusion never lasts and it's always worse the morning after."

"Stefan, I'm…" she trailed off before the apology made it through her lips. She didn't even know what she wanted to apologize for. Loving him? Not loving him enough? Leaving him nine months ago out of fear when she really should have stayed? Miserably, she looked up at him, too emotionally exhausted to continue.

Stefan was better prepared.

Crouching before her, he took her hands. "I don't blame you for leaving. It was what you had to do. Just like following you was what I had to do. I love you, but I'm not going to beg. If you really don't want me, then I'll leave you alone. Permanently," he promised, prompting a sharp spike of terror to flare in her gut. She tightened her grip on his hands, but remained silent. "But I hope you want me to stay because one way or another, I've been looking for you my entire life and I know that this is exactly where I'm supposed to be. With you. Forever."

Katherine held her breath, afraid of shattering into a million pieces if she so much as moved. In all of her weak, self-indulgent fantasies, Stefan had never spoken words like this, designed to reach inside of her and wrap around her heart. She wanted to give them back, to share with him the speeches she'd composed and rehearsed in her loneliest moments, but her mind was a blank. Her heart remained stubbornly closed. She ached with the desire to take what Stefan offered, but was unable to break through the armor she'd spent centuries fortifying.

She was beyond broken. She was petrified.

"You should go, Stefan," she said, blinking back tears. The light in his eyes dimmed as she dashed his hopes and the set of his mouth turned grim. She tried to tug her hands out of his, but he tightened his hold. _Why did he have to make it so fucking hard? _A choked sob escaped her lips as she insisted. "Please. You need to go. I can't do this."

He stared at her for a moment before looking away and closing his eyes. The grip on her hand never slackened, however and just when Katherine thought she was going to have to use her superior strength and literally throw him out, he turned back to her, eyes blazing. He offered her a single word and it was the last one she expected to her. "No."

Taken aback, she gaped at him. "What?"

"No, Katherine," he declared, rising to his feet and pulling her roughly along. "I'm not leaving."

"But…you just said," she stuttered as her lungs constricted, making it difficult to breathe. This didn't make any sense. What was he trying to do? "This isn't going to work. It…can't. I'm not-."

"I know what I said," he interrupted, ignoring her weak protests as his eyes gleamed with defiance. He released her hands one at a time before wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her flush against his body. Dragging a hand up her back, he tangled his fingers in the thick curls at the nape of her neck, the touch melting her into a pliant puddle. The possessiveness in his touch spoke of a confidence that she'd glimpsed in small doses while they'd been together the previous summer. His breath whispered over her lips as he continued. "But it was bullshit, Katherine. I never had any intention of leaving this room without you. I gave you a choice because, it seemed like the right way to play this, but you chose wrong so…" His mouth curved into a smirk as he raised a brow. "I'm going to have to convince you."

Katherine opened her mouth – to speak or cry or scream – but no words came and Stefan didn't wait to play his trump card.

He kissed her.

It started slow and softly reverent before building quickly with pent up hunger and need. Katherine tried to withstand the onslaught of sensation unfurling within her, but her body had other ideas, arching into his as she returned the kiss. Stefan nudged her lips apart with his tongue, exploring her mouth like he'd been as starved for her as she'd been for him.

"I know you love me," he said between kisses, the confidence growing despite the soothing quality of his tone. "I know you're scared, but _I _know this will work. We will work."

Clinging to him with a combination of exhilaration and fear, she let the words wash over her as his kisses broke through the last of her resolve and the walls she'd built to protect herself crumbled. After one hundred and fifty years of holding her love – and _him_ – at arm's length, she couldn't stand the idea of holding out for another second.

Katherine succumbed – completely – to Stefan.

Overwhelmed and needing to regain some of her footing, she propelled them across the hotel room to the bed. Stefan smiled against her lips as he landed on his back and the plush comforter billowed around them. She continued kissing him as she straddled his body, letting one leg fall on either side of his waist.

"You need to be sure," she warned breathlessly, tearing her swollen lips away from his and planting both hands against his chest. Not trusting herself to match his emotional declaration of love without dissolving into tears, she fell back on what she knew and issued an order. "This has to be forever, Stefan, because I will _never _let you go. Not for Elena, not for anybody. You are _mine._"

Stefan grinned, taking her hands and tugging her down until their faces were so close she could feel his breath on her lips. Lacing his fingers through hers, he promised. "I always have been."

* * *

><p>Stretched out on the couch in the living room, Damon knew he'd reached a new level of pathetic.<p>

Listening to the steady tick of the grandfather clock in the hallway, he took a sip of his favorite bourbon and pretended to read. The words stared back at him from the page, refusing to register as he listened for the familiar roar of the Camaro's engine that would signal Elena's return. He could have lied and said he was worried about his car, but the routine was the same no matter what vehicle she drove.

He was wrong. Pathetic didn't even begin to describe it.

Damon only relaxed when Elena was with him. He tried to tell himself that he was just being cautious – that their nine months of relative peace could end at any moment and her life could once again be on the line and even knowing it was total bullshit, he preferred the paranoid theory to the truth.

He was fucking terrified that one day she'd leave and never come back.

He believed she loved him – one way or another, she showed him every day – but he still couldn't completely accept that she was his. Sometimes, when she walked through the front door, he half expected her to head upstairs to Stefan's room.

He'd played the unrequited game for one-hundred and fifty years – he was going to need more than nine months to adjust to his new reality.

A tightness in his chest loosened as the sound of a familiar engine cut through the silence of the house. Damon didn't move, maintaining the fragile façade of his dignity. He stared at his book, listening as she parked the car and cut the engine. His acute hearing picked up the jingle of the keys in her hand as she made her way to the front door. She entered without knocking, something that wasn't new, but managed to turn his insides to mush anyway. He loved that she considered the house her own.

Especially since half of her worldly possessions were currently cluttering up his room.

A fact that he loved equally as much.

The sentimental feeling made him cringe with embarrassment, and he schooled his features into an indifferent mask as Elena entered the room.

Elena saw right through him, of course, but for the most part she let him continue with the ruse. Smiling, she walked towards him, and Damon's eyes automatically fell to the sway of her hips.

Jesus. He was fucking _gone _on this girl.

Perching next to him on the edge of the couch, she took the book from his hands. "Hi," she said, leaning in for a kiss that spoke of days of separation rather than hours. Damon wrapped his arms around her, bringing her down to the cushions with him. He could have kissed her for hours, but she pulled away after a few moments, studying at him as she trailed her fingers lightly through his hair. "You're always going to look at me like that, aren't you?"

He frowned, hypnotized by her mouth. "Like what?"

"Like you're surprised I came back," she said, raising a brow.

"Probably," he admitted with a grin that covered up just how deep-seated his fear went.

Rolling her eyes, Elena grinned as she leaned in to kiss him again. Her soft lips demanded he respond in kind as the scent of her perfume enveloped him. Her hair fell in a dark curtain against the throw pillows, blocking out the rest of the world. The damn house could go up in flames around them and he wouldn't care as long as he could keep her with him.

"I'll always come back," she promised in a breathy murmur between kisses. He felt her smile as she continued. "At least to return your car."

When they finally parted, Elena was stretched out on top of him, her legs twined with his as she propped her head against her fist and looked down at him with lips swollen from his kiss. He watched her silently as she fiddled with the buttons of his shirt.

This was easily the best part of his day.

"I was late to class again," she said, trying to sound reproachful, but her eyes sparkled with amusement. "I think one of these days Ric will have an aneurysm trying not to think about why. You're totally corrupting me."

"I didn't hear you complaining this morning," he replied, sliding his hand down her back and beneath the hem of her shirt. Her bare skin was like warm silk beneath his fingers. Complaining was _definitely_ not what this morning had been about.

"You didn't give me much of a chance to say _anything_," she said, her eyes widening indignantly as she poked him in the chest. "I'll just have to stop sleeping over on school nights."

He pretended to think about that as he caught her hand and brought it to his lips. "Fine with me. I like your room. And we can watch Ric stroke out when he sees me at the kitchen table in the morning."

"You're so mean," she giggled as her gaze fell to their linked hands. Silence stretched out between them for a few moments as Damon felt the mood shift. When she looked at him again, she was still smiling, but her eyes were serious. "Bonnie had the dream again."

"What dream?" he asked, stifling a groan. He knew full well what _dream _Elena was referring to, but he preferred to pretend ignorance. Their relationship was far from perfect and they had their share of fights about random things, but two topics consistently caused problems. One was her bizarre theory that she was too boring for him – a ludicrous notion that had actually kept both of them up the night before and inspired the joint shower this morning.

The other was Bonnie's fucking dream.

"You know what dream," she replied. "The one where I turn -."

Damon kissed her before she could say any more, pulling her tight against him as he tried to make her forget everything else but the way he could make her feel. Elena put up a token protest before succumbing to his demanding and skilled mouth. Reversing their positions, he pressed her back into the couch cushions, slipping a hand beneath her head and slanting his mouth over hers to taste her fully.

She whimpered into his mouth, holding his face between her hands as she eagerly responded. The sounds she made when they were like this drove him wild, egging him on as he turned his attention to the sensitive spot just below her jaw.

"It's not going to work," she whispered breathlessly even as she speared her fingers through his hair in encouragement. "You're not going to distract me with sex."

"Says who?" he challenged, nipping at her neck with his human teeth in a way that he knew made her crazy. "I promise you'll enjoy it."

"Damon," she chided, turning her face away and pushing at his chest in the most half-assed attempt at stopping him he'd ever seen. He could have easily overwhelmed her weak protests, but he knew this Elena. Beneath the breathy moans of desire and the hands grasping at him for more, she was a woman on a mission.

The inevitable fight would only be worse if he continued to avoid the subject.

Muttering in exasperation, he separated from her completely, moving to the other end of the couch and bracing his elbows on his knees. Scrubbing his face with his hands, he swore. "I hate that fucking dream."

"So does Bonnie," Elena reminded him, sitting up slowly and straightening her shirt. She tried to move her legs out of his way, but he caught her ankle, sliding his hand beneath the cuff of her jeans to feel the warmth of her skin and the steady pulse of her heartbeat. He felt her studying him carefully like he was some kind of time bomb about to go off and he hated himself for the rushed reassurances that came next. "I don't want to fight about it, Damon, I swear. She's just…I think the dream's getting worse. She cornered me before class and it took me at least five minutes to calm her down. I'm running out of things to tell her to promise her it will never happen – that you'll never turn me."

"You're damn right I won't," Damon vowed, wondering if Elena knew that every time they had this conversation – and it seemed to come up whether Bonnie had had her stupid dream or not – her assertions that he'd never turn her sounded more and more like a challenge. Like on some level, she was dying for him to argue and prove her wrong.

She had no idea just how badly he wanted to do exactly that.

Elena was coming around to the idea of forever and no matter how many times he told himself that she wasn't serious – not completely – he was finding it harder to believe in the impossibility. He wanted her to turn and if she kept pushing the idea there might come a day in the too near future when he wouldn't be able to tell her no.

And he _had _to tell her no. She wasn't ready.

Inching forward, she took his hand from her ankle and laced their fingers together. "Have you ever considered-."

"No," he replied emphatically.

"Damon, you don't even know what I was going to say," she responded incredulously.

"I don't need to," he declared, finally looking at her.

Raising a brow, she continued. "Have you ever considered that maybe…maybe the dream _is _a prophecy?"

"A prophecy of what?" Damon scoffed, tearing his hand away and rising abruptly from the couch. The fireplace beckoned and he answered, glaring at the shadowy depths of the empty grate. "That I'm going to give you my blood and throw you off of a cliff? I know I'm impulsive, Elena, but you've got to give me a little more credit than that."

"Maybe it's not meant to be taken literally," she suggested, rising to her feet and making her way toward him. He glanced over his shoulder, but didn't move. _She's not trying to start a fight, so don't be an ass, _he thought, trying to keep his temper in check. He watched her fidget as she mulled something over in her mind. There was a look in her eye he hadn't seen before and he knew whatever she was about to say was going to be big.

Tucking her hair behind her ear in a nervous gesture he had memorized, she finally said. "I never told you this, but when I woke up in the tomb, with my blood all over your clothes, I almost…I _did _wish I haddied. Just to get it over with."

The confession short-circuited his brain and for several seconds, all he could do was stare at her. Fighting the instinct to grab her by the arms and shake her until she came to her senses, he spit out between clenched teeth. "I've told you before, you don't have to turn. That's not…it's never been a condition in this…" he paused, swallowing his revulsion at how cliché he sounded before uttering. "_relationship._"

"But don't you feel like it's inevitable?" she demanded, shrugging helplessly. "Like it's there, between us, just waiting for us both to be on the same page?"

"Yeah," he exclaimed. "Because that goddamn witch keeps fucking dreaming about it and putting ideas into your head."

Insulted, Elena scoffed as the first real sparks of anger flashed in her eyes. "Bonnie's not putting anything into my head, Damon, I'm perfectly capable of coming up with my own opinions."

Closing his fingers into a fist, he slammed it against the marble mantle in frustration. _Fuck this. _"Fine," he challenged as, pushing up his sleeve, he called her bluff. "Let's do it right now."

She visibly paled. "What?"

"You want to turn? You want to get it over with?" he demanded as he let his fangs descend and felt the heat around his eyes as his veins rose to the surface. In a burst of speed, he had her across the room, pinned to the wall as he brought his wrist to his lips. "I'm tired of arguing with you about it, so guess what? I'm in."

Suddenly panicked, Elena's eyes went wide and her pulse started to race as he mimed sinking the sharp, pointed teeth into his flesh. Gripping his arms, she cried. "Damon, wait!"

The echo of her voice hung in the air between them as she gasped for breath. Her frenetic pulse thundered in his ears, betraying the fear she'd tried to hide. Closing his eyes, Damon rested his forehead against hers as his fangs retracted and the veins around his eyes pulled back.

He stayed like that for a long time, waiting for his temper to fully recede and her breathing to return to normal so they could finish the conversation rationally. After a moment, he opened his eyes and pulled away far enough to brush her hair away from her face with both hands. Her eyes darted immediately to the unmarred skin of his inner wrist and he raised a brow at her surprised expression, shrugging casually. "I knew you didn't mean it."

Crestfallen, she looked away. "Damon, I-."

"Elena, it's fine," he promised, relieved beyond the telling that he'd managed to avoid a serious blow up. Make up sex was great, but it was never a guarantee and he was still waiting for the day when he pushed it too far. Gently, he gripped her chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to meet his eye. "I meant what I said, you don't have to turn. It doesn't change how I feel about you."

"I know, but you want me to," she replied, a frown marring her perfect features as she covered his hand with her own. "And sometimes, I want it, too."

"I know," he said and that was the problem – the fact that day by day, he could see her warming to the idea of becoming a vampire. He knew better than anybody, however, that there was no way to be ready to make that choice. He'd thought he wanted forever with Katherine, and look how that had turned out.

Still, something had to give. Elena wouldn't let the idea go and since there was no way to make her understand something he could barely put into coherent thought, they were simply destined to fight about it in circles until one of them went too far.

And there was no contest as to who could do more damage when pushed to the breaking point.

Finally, he came to a decision. "I'll make you a deal."

Elena narrowed her eyes. "What kind of deal?"

"I'll turn you," he began, loving the way her breath hitched in anticipation, but terrified at the same time. "When you can look me in the eye and ask me without fear. Then I'll believe it's what you really want."

"Deal," she agreed almost instantly, shaking him to the core because in that moment there wasn't the slightest hint of apprehension in her eyes.

"There's plenty of time," he said, attempting to mask his anxiety over what he'd just promised. The past nine months had already felt like a gift – one he was certain he hadn't done anything to deserve. The prospect of forever with her was now a tangible promise where it had once been a vague idea and he wasn't sure he could handle that. "You could change your mind or I could fu-."

"Damon," she warned, taking his face in her hands and turning the tables by silencing him with a kiss. "I love you."

He grinned. _I will never get tired of hearing that, _he thought, his lips brushing against hers as he murmured back. "I love you, too."

"I'm not going to change my mind," she insisted, placing a finger against his lips as she studied him with a knowing glint in her eye. They had this exchange often enough that it was almost a game. Smiling, she replaced her finger with her mouth and kissed him until he was fairly certain he'd forgotten how to form words. She stood on her toes, wrapping her arms around his neck as her lips feathered over his skin, peppering his jaw with kisses until she finally murmured into his ear.

"You won't fuck it up."

The End

_AN Pt 2: This isn't a 'to be continued', but there are still some stories I want to tell and I am contemplating a sequel. A few things are stopping me, though. One is time. I started writing this last July and I never expected it to take me this long. Another is the fact I only have half a plot. LOL Mostly though, it's the fact that what I have in mind makes the angst and darkness in this fic pale in comparison. I'm a little afraid no one will like it. LOL _

_But rest assured, if and when I write a sequel to Self-Inflicted Wounds, I'll post it here. :D_


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